


From Joy to Motion

by fireroasted



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: Bit of a Mess Aubrey, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Married and Adorable Bechloe, Romance, Rural Mechanic Stacie
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-21
Packaged: 2021-03-22 01:13:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 27,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30030753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fireroasted/pseuds/fireroasted
Summary: Nothing has gone well for thirty-year-old Aubrey Posen since she graduated. When her car breaks down, throwing away her shot at redemption, she finds herself at rock bottom once more. Luckily, a beautiful mechanic takes her under her wing and shows her that the world isn't such a terrible place, after all.The reclusive Stacie Conrad loves her simple life. The only thing she can't seem to shake is the vast loneliness built up by years of disappointment. When she finds a beautiful blonde at her doorstep, their connection is immediate and seemingly forged by fate. Unfortunately, the universe has let her down before.
Relationships: Chloe Beale/Beca Mitchell, Stacie Conrad/Aubrey Posen
Comments: 5
Kudos: 36





	1. Joy

In order for movement to exist, an engine must convert energy into propulsion. As Stacie saw it, the human experience was no different from a car or a plane or a rocket ship, or mysteries of the heart, for that matter.

Stacie Conrad spent years gathering energy from competition and scarcity and propelling herself into success and renown. She was an eager participant in burning herself out at both ends to keep every system running smoothly. For years, she had it all—the career, the accolades, a string of love-of-her-lifes to feed her rusty heart.

When her engine began to smoke, when she could no longer ignore the cloud of ash choking her, she took a step back. She dismantled and rebuilt her world, finding brand-new, renewable energy sources in joy and the feeling of enough.

Despite the lonely cry of her clunky, old heart, she found peace. Tranquility. An appreciation for a quiet mind. She learned to stop and look around, breath in the air and appreciate the crunch of gravel beneath her boots. She learned to appreciate the small network of company that came across her little haven, and the meditative solitude of hard work beneath the vast blue skies. She learned to carry the little nuggets of every day joy in her heart, and to fill the vast emptiness inside with them, a little at a time. It wasn’t perfect—there was still so much empty space. She was still learning, still adapting, but she loved the last two years of her quiet life more than anything, and she wouldn’t trade it for the world.

She stood now in the kitchen, music softly flowing in from the living room. She was thinking about her baby, a 1966 cherry red Ford Mustang convertible beneath the tarp in her backyard. She’d been working on it for the last two years after she’d received it in near-scrap-metal condition, and today—she felt it deep in her bones—was the day the engine was finally going to start.

She could almost picture the combustion, the pistons firing, and the purr of energy ready to propel her car into a new life.

Little could Stacie have known that it would be her own life, the rusty mechanisms in her own heart, that would be forever changed within the next hour.

For at this very moment, Aubrey Posen was currently speeding along the highway en route to an important investor’s meeting for her new start-up venture across the state. As a not-so-fresh graduate from a reputable business school in the throes of an early mid-life crisis, Aubrey had been, for the last half hour, willfully choosing to neglect the many warning signs of her car beginning to heave its last breaths. For the last half hour, she’d been tenuously trying to get herself together, and she was almost certain she’d deluded herself into believing she would arrive get to Atlanta on time for the meeting. This car was going to get her there, smoking engine or not.

As Stacie was making her morning coffee, she saw the little grey car zip past her abode on the quiet road. She didn’t think much of it as she was pouring milk into her mug and picturing turning the key in her Mustang and catching all the right sounds. She wouldn’t think of the beat-up little car again until after she’d eaten, pulled on her coveralls, and was getting ready to start her day.

Stacie was in the process of watching the gates rise into the roof of her garage when she noticed the presence of someone standing several feet away. It was a disheveled blonde woman, out of breath as she ran her hand through her dusty hair.

She was beautiful. And furious.

“Do you work here?” The woman asked, eyeing her warily.

Stacie gestured to her navy-blue coveralls. “These are comfy, but I definitely don’t wear these for fun,” she said, mustering a friendly smile. “What can I help you with?”

The woman bit her lip, her anger transforming into something else. “My car broke down,” she said. She was suddenly on the verge of tears and Stacie felt every inch of the awkwardness as she wondered whether she should comfort the distraught woman. She was the only one here, after all. Luckily, the decision was made for her when the woman took a deep breath and fixed her with a look that sent her hackles raising for no real reason. “Do you have a car I can borrow?”

Stacie shook her head to resist the urge to bite back when it was so clear that this woman was not having a good day. “Sorry,” she said, offering kindness instead, “it’s a pretty small operation all the way out here. I can give you a lift if you’re not going too far, or help you call a tow truck.”

The woman glowered at the dusty ground. “I’m supposed to be in Atlanta at ten.”

Stacie glanced at her watch. “Yeah, I don’t think that’s happening,” she murmured.

When she looked up again, the woman was suddenly close enough to grab her hand. “Please,” she said. “You don’t know what this would mean to me.”

Stacie, close enough now to be sucked into the details of the woman’s beautiful red-rimmed eyes, exhaled the nervousness out of her system with a laugh as she pulled her hand back. “I really can’t. All I’ve got working is my tow truck, and it’s not going to get you even close to where you want to be in the time that we’ve got. I’m really sorry,” she said, putting some distance between them with a step back.

She prepared herself for the anger that she was certain would come, but instead the woman sank down to the ground, kicking up an extra layer of dust all over her neatly pressed pencil skirt, and buried her face in her hands as she choked back a sob.

“A-are you okay?” Stacie asked, startled. A beat passed where the woman simply shook her head, crying quietly into her hands. The anger melted on both sides, and Stacie kneeled down to tentatively touch her on the shoulder. “Hey,” she said softly, “it’ll be okay.”

Unexpectedly, the woman grabbed the lapels of her coveralls and tugged her forward to wrap her arms around her neck so forcefully that Stacie nearly fell over. She shifted her weight in the last moment, bracing the woman against her with a steadying hand, and said nothing while the woman continued to cry. Unhelpfully, her mind drifted to the woman’s scent. Lilies, perhaps, or orchids. Either way, it stirred up something familiar—she could swim in it forever.

Long minutes passed as the woman quietly soaked through the shoulder of her coveralls. She rubbed her hand across her back, not knowing what else to do but wishing to somehow give this stranger any reprieve at all. “Sorry,” the woman mumbled eventually, pulling away as she tried to catch her breath. “I’m sorry, I—I don’t know what came over me. Everything is just so…awful.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Stacie said with a sheepish grin, “things happen. I don’t have anywhere else to be, so if you wanna talk about it, I’m all ears.”

The woman shook her head as she finally released her grip on Stacie’s coveralls. “I…shouldn’t take up more of your time. I just…have to get my car,” she said. “God, I’m such a mess.”

On the contrary, Stacie found her beautiful. A part of her wondered what could have brought the blonde so much distress—so much of that potent anger, frustration, and sadness in those green eyes—while the annoying part of her was still marvelling at the way she felt in her embrace. Perhaps it had just been so long that her loneliness begged her to remember what it was like to hold another person like that. Perhaps it was the halo effect striking her heartstrings with a hammer, painting a distraught damsel with a golden glow.

All she knew was how much she wanted to know her name.

“I’ll bring the truck around,” she said instead. She offered the woman a hand, which she took hesitatingly, her cheeks reddening several shades brighter. Stacie recognized the embarrassment and shame, and begged her heart not to misconstrue it for the shyness of attraction. “I’m Stacie, by the way,” she said with a warm smile.

“Aubrey,” the woman replied quietly.

She held the hand in hers and gave it a gentle shake. “Nice to meet you, Aubrey,” she said, her grin broadening when Aubrey gave her a small smile. “I’ll tell you what. Why don’t you come back into the house with me, and I’ll fix you a nice cup of tea? Get some rest while I go grab your car. How does that sound?”

Aubrey blinked back, confusion turning into skepticism into distrust as she slid her hand out of Stacie’s.

“There’s no catch. Just a cup of tea,” Stacie chuckled, as if reading her mind. She raised her hands in defence, trying not to feel the loss of Aubrey’s hand in hers—she’s a stranger in need, Stacie berated herself. “You’re welcome to wait here too if that makes you feel safer.”

Aubrey chewed her lip. Eventually, she sighed wearily as she rubbed her lids with a thumb and forefinger. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be so rude”—she exhaled a frustrated breath—“tea sounds nice.”

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, Aubrey found herself alone in Stacie’s kitchen, trying hard not to think about the investors’ meeting she was missing. Cradling the handmade ceramic mug in her hands, she looked around room. White wooden cabinets lined the walls of the cozy kitchen, drawing her eyes to the large window above the sink, perfectly framing the clear, blue skies. The little touches of colour were adorable: a stack of rainbow mugs nestled beside a muted teal cookie jar, a yellow dishcloth thrown over the brushed silver faucet, mismatched plates of varying sizes through a cabinet window, and a pair of lavender oven mitts hanging on a hook against the wall on top of a red “Kiss the Cook” apron.

Aubrey walked out into the dining room, a simple set-up adjacent to the kitchen. She sat down in one of the white wooden chairs and set her mug on the white wooden table, and sank her feet into the plush rug beneath. There was a wood-burning stove in one corner, a shelf along one wall displaying trinkets, books, and photographs above its many drawers, a large bay window along another, and an equally simple living room beyond the half-wall dividing the space.

Aubrey took in the silence. It was as if she’d gone back to the romance of a simpler time.

She couldn’t help but wonder how on earth a woman like Stacie, beautiful enough to walk any runway in the world, ended up in the middle of nowhere, fixing cars and living her life in a little cabin—gorgeous in its own right but painfully minimal. She didn’t even have a television. She couldn’t imagine anyone so charismatic would be content alone out here, no matter how cute this house was.

Restless, she left her mug on the table and meandered over to the shelf. Her eyes roamed the spines of the books, impressed and confused by the collection of well-loved astrophysics textbooks. Beautiful and intelligent, she mused. Her host was an enigma. Admittedly, an attractive enigma.

She glanced at the photographs, surprised by one in which she wore a badge and blue polo, grinning in front of a large NASA logo.

A very attractive and very intelligent enigma.

Ah—her attention was caught by a photograph in the corner of her eye, depicting an exasperated-looking brunette and Stacie pressing a kiss to her cheek.

A very attractive, very intelligent enigma who was definitely not single. Of course she wasn’t single.

She scoffed and shook her head at the thought. She’d shown up at this woman’s doorstep yelling and crying into her arms. It was pathetic. What did it matter that she wasn’t single? She’d been out of the game for so long, strung so high for so long, carried so much baggage for so long—it was a miracle she didn’t slam the door in her face and send her back on the road on foot. That would surely have been the easier option for her.

But she didn’t. Even now, as Aubrey ran her hands through her hair thinking about Stacie’s gentle touch and the warmth of her hand, her heart raced a little. She hadn’t noticed it at first glance, when distress had completely overpowered her body and mind, but Stacie had one of the most contagious smiles in the world. Worse, she had eyes that could get away with murder, and strong hands that she could get obsessed with.

It was inevitable, maybe, that it would not take long at all for Aubrey to replay her interactions with this very attractive, very intelligent, very kind, and very generous enigma who was definitely not single. The little crush, doomed to go nowhere, seemed harmless at first, and she didn’t have enough energy in her to fight it off—after all, she’d known the woman for less than thirty minutes—but at least it was a distraction from all the other aspects of her life that was doomed to go nowhere.

With that thought, the crushing disappointment returned, twisting up her insides with a vengeance.

Aubrey returned to her tea with a renewed sense of defeat. She stared out the window.

What next? What now?

How could everything go so wrong?

* * *

Stacie unzipped her coveralls and let it fall down to her waist to stand in a simple white tank top as the mid-morning sun warmed the earth. Even inside the garage, with her head under the hood of Aubrey’s car, it was getting hot. She pulled her hair back into a ponytail while she frowned at the smoking engine.

Aubrey wasn’t going to like what she had to say about this. She sighed—this wasn’t how she expected her day to go.

When she returned to her home, she found Aubrey on her brown, leather couch, curled up tightly in one cushion, as if trying to take up as little space as possible. She was fast asleep.

Stacie melted a little.

This woman was adorable, and Stacie couldn’t help but feel the injustices against her deep in her own heart. She didn’t know her, didn’t even know what sort of injustices she wanted to rave against, and still a part of her wanted to take her far away from it all. If only to avoid telling her what happened to her car.

Stacie sucked in her courage.

She knelt down on the rug and gently laid a hand on Aubrey’s shoulder. “Hey,” she whispered, careful not to startle her. “Aubrey?”

Aubrey shifted, whimpered a little as she was pulled out of sleep. Slowly, she opened her eyes, and Stacie hitched a breath. She wasn’t prepared for those tender shades of green to capture her so completely once more. They watched each other blankly, hearts pounding, until Aubrey’s senses woke up enough to push herself into a seating position. Stacie’s hand slid from her shoulder and into the safety of her own space.

“Sorry to wake you,” Stacie said as she sat down on the other side of the couch.

“Oh, it’s okay,” Aubrey said, staring down at her hands in her lap. “I should be the one apologizing. I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“You’ve had a long day.” Stacie nodded distractedly, fixing her gaze out the window and trying to quickly rewire her brain to function well enough to break the news. “I’m afraid there’s more bad news.” Very delicate, she chastised herself with an internal groan.

Aubrey sighed as she folded herself over. She pressed her palms against her eyes with her elbows on her knees. “Of course,” she muttered. “That car’s done for, isn’t it?”

“Not exactly?” Stacie said. She winced a little at the way her tone added a question to the end of her response. She was a professional—she had to be steady. But god, it was hard in front of a beautiful woman clearly having a miserable, miserable day. Stacie cleared her throat. “The engine is the only thing that needs to be replaced, but since it’s an older model, it might take some time to find a replacement. Even then, it could run you a couple thousand dollars at least. Once we have it, it’ll take about eight to ten hours to install. So…yeah, I don’t know. It might be better to just get a new car.”

“Fuck,” Aubrey whispered into her arms. “What am I supposed to do? Where am I supposed to go?”

“Do you have anyone you can call?”

Aubrey scoffed at the thought of her parents never-ending judgement, then sobered when she realized they were the only people left in her life. “No…no one.”

Her voice was so quiet, so broken. Stacie bit her lip and glanced over at its source. She couldn’t leave her like this, she decided. “You can stay here, if you want. We can decide what to do with your engine, or I can drive you to a bus station or a dealership tomorrow.”

Aubrey raised her eyes. “Stay here?” She breathed, dumbfounded by the many acts of kindness this stranger had already shown her. She hadn’t seen a single one in so long that this all felt a bit too good to be true.

“There’s no catch,” Stacie said again with a laugh.

“What about your girlfriend?” The words came flying out of Aubrey’s mouth before her brain could catch up. Her eyes darted away in horror. The woman could've been tied to Stacie in a hundred different ways, but the Freudian slip gave away more than she'd bargained for.

Luckily, Stacie didn't seem to notice. 

“Girlfriend?” Stacie simply asked.

“S-sorry,” Aubrey mumbled, embarrassment burning from the nape of her neck to the tips of her ears. “I was looking around earlier and saw the photos on your shelf in the dining nook. I just don’t want to intrude…or take even more of your time, really.”

“Oh!” Stacie’s side of the couch squeaked as she reached over to her end table to retrieve a picture frame that had somehow fallen over. She held it out to Aubrey with a small smile and pointed a finger at the photo. “Her?”

Stiffly, Aubrey turned her gaze to the photo in Stacie’s hand. To her surprise, it was a wedding photo. The brunette she’d seen earlier was kissing a woman with auburn hair, both in beautiful white dresses. Stacie was beside them, smiling among the crowd of men and women surrounding the happy couple.

“That’s Beca,” Stacie explained. “She’s my best friend and the reason I’m here.” Aubrey took in the wistful smile and blushed when Stacie asked, “Did you see the NASA picture too?”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to be so nosy,” Aubrey replied hurriedly. “I guess, I…was just curious. How does a woman end up fixing cars miles away from…everyone else?”

Stacie laughed. “It’s a fair question. Nothing too exciting, really. Beca and I met a long time ago and we both went on to do pretty amazing things—not gonna lie. She was producing all these award-winning albums, and I was working for NASA, travelling all over the country with my research. It was a dream come true until…we more or less burnt out.” She chuckled humourlessly. “When Beca told me she was leaving it all behind, I couldn’t believe it. She lives twenty minutes east now, on an organic farm with her wife and two dogs. When I saw what their life was like, I couldn’t think of anything else I wanted more. I mean, I haven’t managed to get a wife, and I don’t exactly have a farm or dogs either, but…walking away was the best decision I’ve ever made. I don’t regret it for a minute. So, yeah…that’s my story.” She smiled, then returned the picture to the end table. “Maybe walking away will do you some good too.”

Aubrey scoffed. “I’d be over the moon if I had anything to walk away from.” She shook her head, and leaned back against the couch, exhaling deeply as she turned her gaze to the ceiling.

“Tell me your story,” Stacie said softly.

Aubrey’s gaze flickered to her eyes, then to the rug. “You don’t want to hear that,” she chuckled. “It’s so…depressing.”

“I would, but I understand if you don’t want to tell me.”

Aubrey sighed. All this time, she hadn’t given herself a chance to coherently piece her story together. She didn’t know where to start, didn’t know which parts were important. She’d never told her story to anyone before.

Then again, nobody had ever asked.

So, holding onto the hope of catharsis, Aubrey took in a deep breath. “I did everything right,” she began shakily. “I got all the grades. I went to Harvard. I got my business degree. But…all these years of schooling and nobody prepares you for life after that. I…didn’t know what to do with myself when everything I did could no longer be measured. I was top of the class, and now…now I don’t even know a single goddamn person I can call in an emergency”—she laughed, pain slipping through every beat. “I’m…bad. With people. I don’t know if you can tell.”

She turned to find Stacie turned toward her, elbow on the backrest as she watched her with those inquisitive green eyes, silently urging her to go on. Aubrey mustered a small smile. “I don’t know why I’m telling you any of this. You’re easy to talk to somehow—maybe because I’ve officially hit rock bottom. Maybe it’s because you’re a stranger.” She turned back to the ceiling when the tears threatened to pour over once more. “It’s just…trust doesn’t usually come easy. I’ve been told too many times that I’m controlling and brash and rude and the list goes on. The perfectionism and the anxiety and all of those expectations—god, I couldn’t even hold down a job. Nobody wanted to hire me and maybe I was too proud to accept less than what I thought I was entitled to. Eventually…I just gave up. I saw my peers skyrocketing ahead, and I... I felt like I was failing every day, and everything just got worse and worse. I spent years holed up in my parents’ house…floundering. Every day, I saw the disappointment on their faces when their gold star child turned out to be such a fucking failure. There were so many days when I couldn’t get out of bed, just so I wouldn’t have to look at that.” Aubrey ran a hand down her face and sucked in another breath to stop the tears. “Sorry, this is…a lot. I guess I’ve needed to get it out for a while.”

Stacie reached out with a tissue from the box on the coffee table and a sympathetic smile. “Don’t apologize—you did get out of bed. That’s why you’re here.”

Aubrey exhaled a self-deprecating laugh and shook her head. “I’m here because I was stupid enough to try to start my own business. I’ve been trying to get it off the ground for two years, but nobody wanted it. Two goddamn years. I really thought this VC in Atlanta was going to make it happen, but of _course_ I went and fucked that up to.”

“What was it?” Stacie asked quietly. “If you don’t mind my asking.”

“It’s stupid,” Aubrey chuckled, dabbing at her eyes with the tissue. “So stupid.”

Stacie flashed a comforting grin. “I used to binge _Shark Tank_ all the time in college—I think I’ve _probably_ seen worse.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Aubrey mumbled. “It’s…a camp. Of sorts. Like, a boot camp for…all kinds of people, really. To strengthen communication skills and team-building skills, and…really take time to figure out how to both lead _and_ be a part of a team. That kind of stuff. For people like me who suck with people, you know?”

“That doesn’t sound stupid at all,” Stacie said thoughtfully. “In NASA, I was often the only female engineer in a room, occupying one of the most competitive positions in the world, and I think…if our team had something like that—a safe place to share our ideas and our innovations, maybe—we would’ve learned to work better together instead of letting the competition and the politics get the best of us. That’s true progress, when you think about it. You’re amazing, Aubrey. And I don’t think you suck with people at all. I mean, you made it easy for me to tell you my story too.”

Aubrey smiled shyly. “You’re just the kindest person on this planet, apparently.”

Stacie laughed. “Oh, I’m not so sure about that. I’m just telling the truth.” That Aubrey was one of the most captivating, most intriguing souls she’d ever met made it easy to tell her as such. “Can I give you a hug?”

Aubrey nibbled at her lower lip. “Do I look like I need one that bad?” She chuckled nervously.

“Kinda. But we all do sometimes,” Stacie said, leaning closer as she opened her arms.

Aubrey hesitated only for a moment before she realized she couldn’t recall the last time she’d received a hug other than her embarrassing breakdown that morning. She wrapped her arms around Stacie’s awkwardly angled torso, and leaned into the warmth of another human being. It was nice. She smelled faintly of sunshine and motor oil, and it was wonderful. She felt Stacie shift closer, thighs touching now as she tightened her grip around the thin cloth of Stacie’s tank top.

Human connection blossomed in such mysterious ways, Aubrey mused. Never could she have ever imagined how much comfort she found in a stranger’s arms. And Stacie, whose fingers were pressed against the tight muscles between Aubrey’s shoulder blades wondered too how this could feel so familiar. Like they could open each other’s souls and find its contents as comforting as an old friend.

Stacie couldn’t remember the last time she’d held anybody like this. She spent so many nights alone, after a decade-long habit of sharing beds with strangers and lovers, yet she felt this hug far more intimate—more vulnerable—than being naked with another.

“Are you sure it’s okay if I stay the night?” Aubrey asked quietly.

“Of course,” Stacie whispered.

Aubrey pulled away slowly, stopping before it might encourage Stacie to drop her hands completely from her back—she savoured the touch, savoured the dazed look in her eyes when she caught Stacie’s gaze dart to her lips. Her heartbeat quickened at the thought that Stacie might kiss her. There would be no rhyme or reason—only a pull, an inexplicable feeling that she might find sanctuary in those lips. Aubrey moved closer, her hands falling from Stacie’s back to her waist.

Stacie held her eyes. Her touch left Stacie’s shoulder to trail a path to her neck. Her eyes fluttered closed as she leaned in.

Stacie could feel the warmth of Aubrey’s breath against her own.

Out of the blue, however, a car door slammed in the distance, jolting them apart as excited voices cut through the cloud of tension. Stacie glanced at Aubrey, eyes wide as she realized what she’d almost done. Aubrey’s entire face was coloured pink as she looked away with a hand clapped over her eyes. Stacie wanted to crawl into a hole—this was going to haunt her later.

For now, she pushed the almost-kiss out of her mind. “Um, I think, uh—that’s probably someone dropping off a car—I’m…I’m gonna go check on them. You, uh, just make yourself at home,” Stacie said hurriedly as she scrambled to her feet and out the door.

Aubrey barely processed what she said before the door slammed, and she was left with her thoughts once more. What was that? She wondered, touching her lips lightly. She must’ve been hallucinating through the spiralling, because she was almost certain they were a second away from a kiss. Get it together, Posen, she thought with a shake of her head. Stacie was beautiful, intelligent and kind, and she couldn’t think of a single reason why Stacie might have wanted to kiss her. 

It would’ve been nice, she conceded, falling across the couch with a sigh. But nothing nice ever came easy, did it?

* * *

“Yeah, she’ll be alright,” Stacie said to the older gentleman standing behind her as she inspected the side of his tractor. “I’ll have it ready for you tomorrow. Come by in the morning.”

“Thanks, Stacie,” the man said, rubbing his hand over his bald head. “Honestly, what would I do without you?”

“Buy a new tractor, probably,” Stacie chuckled, wiping her hands. “The missus would probably like that. Save you two the trip.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” he said, turning to wave at his wife sitting in the driver’s seat of a grey pick-up. “I kinda think she likes coming down here just to see you. Too shy to ever get out of the car, though.”

“You two are too sweet,” Stacie said, waving to his wife when she waved back with a big smile.

“You really oughta come over for supper sometime,” the man said, turning back to her with a warm smile. “It isn’t right that a wonderful, young woman like yourself is spending so much time alone out here. I’ve got a nephew in Atlanta I would love to introduce you to—wonderful kid. He’s a police officer.”

Stacie returned his smile with a polite one of her own. “Thank you, Roger,” she said, giving him a firm pat on the back as she walked him to the car. “Supper sounds lovely, but maybe a rain check on your nephew? I’m not really on the market at the moment.”

Roger stopped and raised one bushy, grey brow. “Doreen’s brother has a daughter over near Wadley. A dentist—if that’s more to your liking,” he said slowly.

Stacie couldn’t help but laugh at the earnest trepidation on his face. “I respect both police officers and dentists equally, but I’m okay out here. Trust me. Besides, these tractors and trucks don’t fix themselves, my friend.” She paused to offer a smile. “You’re sweet, really—and I appreciate it, but you don’t have to worry about me.”

Roger sighed. “I know, I know,” he said—they’d had this conversation countless times. “It’s just…with Doreen, I—even after thirty-five years, you just can’t describe that kind of happiness. Oh, I just think you’re such an outstanding gal, Stacie. It would be nice to see you happy too.”

“You’ve got one in a million, my friend. Treat her well,” Stacie told him with a laugh despite the way his sincerity tugged at her heart. “The rest of us will find our way eventually. Happiness comes in many forms, after all.”

“Well, that may be, but…you know,” Roger replied as they approached the truck, “keep an open mind, Stacie. You never know who might be your one in a million.”

She waved after them as they drove away, feeling the tightness in her chest Roger’s words dug out. She was perfectly happy out here, she reminded herself—she’d done a lot to get here. To get to the peace she’d wanted for so long. She lowered her arm as the dust clouds carried them away.

Green eyes surfaced in her mind, but she shoved it as far back into the recesses as her mind as she could. For every nine-hundred-ninety-nine-thousand-nine-hundred-ninety-nine fools searching until their hearts sputtered to a stop, one came out victorious.

And the universe has made it clear time and time again where she stood within that ratio.

* * *

At a quarter to noon, Aubrey peeked out the window at the shop thirty steps away. Stacie was working away, as she had been for the last two hours.

She’d gotten off the phone with her investor’s assistant a while ago to confirm her rejection, and after a half-hour long session of sitting around feeling sorry for herself, she felt strangely…bored. Every nightmare of the past thirty years of her life had come true, and left with just the broke pieces of a dream, it was almost liberating to have nothing else to lose. To be a shell. A blank slate to be filled.

She thought of Stacie and the electric moment they had shared, followed by the panic in Stacie’s eyes.

If absolute rock bottom was pining for a kiss from a gorgeous mechanic whom she had just met, then she had definitely been through worse, she mused.

Eventually, she made her way back into the kitchen, where she began sifting through Stacie’s fridge and pantry. With nothing but time on her hands, making lunch seemed like the least she could do. Luckily, Stacie had enough food to last at least a few winters if they were to be caught in some kind of apocalypse. She studied the ingredients she’d laid out on the countertop, trying to remember the last time she felt this excited to do anything. Cooking used to be her therapy in between long nights of cramming for exams—she couldn’t believe she’d forgotten once the exams stopped coming. She just hoped Stacie wouldn’t mind that she borrowed her kitchen. And her ingredients.

Hopefully, she had enough money to pay for things in her wallet if Stacie _did_ mind.

* * *

At noon, Stacie unzipped her coveralls once more as she returned to her house for lunch. She was thinking about the vegetables Beca had stuffed her fridge with and wondering whether Aubrey liked salads when she realized Aubrey wasn’t in the room. She peered up the staircase by the entryway. “Aubrey?” she called.

“I’m here.”

Stacie glanced around the living room once more, then followed the voice toward the dining nook, confused. Her black blazer was hanging on the back of a dining chair, but she was nowhere in sight. She was about to cross the half-wall when Aubrey walked out from the kitchen. She was wearing her red “Kiss the Cook” apron over her white blouse and black skirt. Flour streaked across her cheek and messy blonde bun. “Hey, welcome back,” she said with a soft smile.

Stacie suddenly forgot to breathe.

She stumbled at the sight of her, slamming her knee against the corner of the wall, her brain so scrambled she forgot to curse.

Aubrey was at her side in an instant with a warm hand on her arm, steadying her. “Are you okay?” she asked, her brow creasing in a way Stacie wanted to reach out and smooth over with a kiss. “For someone who works with her hands, you’re surprisingly clumsy.”

Her mind was locked into the imagined kiss while her knee pulsed with pain. There was no capacity left for an intelligent reply, especially when Aubrey stood so close.

“Stacie?”

“Uh,” she heard herself say. “I-I’m fine,” she managed eventually.

She squeezed her eyes shut. What is happening? She wondered in horror. She’d never been so tongue-tied in her life. Then again, after so much time alone, it felt entirely possible that she’d never been so affected by another person in her life.

She suddenly realized that Aubrey was still speaking. “Maybe you should sit down,” she said, as she looked down at her knee. “I’m just making some pizza for us—I hope you don’t mind, that I—”

She froze, lips parted in mid-speech, when Stacie gently cupped the side of her cheek. Her thumb brushed at the flour sprinkled across, almost absently as her gaze bore into Aubrey’s. She wondered whether Aubrey could hear the hammering of her heart. She inched forward, wondering if she’d meet her halfway.

You promised you wouldn’t do this again.

Stacie’s breath hitched. Her subconscious sounded so much like Beca that she almost looked around, wondering if she was somehow standing in this room. Guilt flooded the blood rushing through her veins at the thought of putting her best friend through the gauntlet all over again. “S-sorry,” she mumbled, dropping her hand with an embarrassed half-smile. “You, uh, had some flour there.”

Aubrey nodded slowly, her cheeks pink. “Thanks,” she mumbled. She pointed a thumb behind her. “Well, I’m going to—I’ll…go finish the pizza. It’ll be a little while because the dough needs to sit for a bit, but, um, I made macaroni salad too…if you want some.”

“Yeah,” Stacie said, nervously running a hand through her hair. “I just have to go upstairs and, uh, check my emails. I’ll join you after?”

“Okay.”

In the safety of her study upstairs, Stacie dropped herself into her chair and groaned loudly into her hands. “What the hell is wrong with you?” she chastised herself. She’d always been bold, but she knew the game. She knew what to look for. She knew the forms that permission took. She knew to ask when she was unsure. She knew _not to touch someone out of the blue for no reason whatsoever._

God, what was it about her? This woman she barely knew and so desperately wanted to connect with. Twice, they’d come so close. Stacie threw her forearm over her eyes as she sank back into her chair. This was so much so fast. Too fast—even by her standards.

Keep it together, she repeated to herself over and over. She was lonely, yes, but that wasn’t an excuse anymore, and she refused to let it topple her again.

In the safety of the kitchen alone, Aubrey stared out the window as she kneaded the dough beneath the heel of her palm. She was still in a daze, still feeling the warmth of Stacie’s hand against her cheek. She’d always been an observer to these kinds of games. She didn’t know the rules, but she’d seen it played. She didn’t know what Stacie wanted, but god, there was something about the way she looked at her that made her feel so whole.

She was dangerous—this woman she barely knew and so desperately wanted to connect with. This woman whose charm was so magnetic, and her eyes so inquisitive. Aubrey touched her lip. Twice, they’d come so close. This was so much so fast. So exhilarating she could barely breathe.

Aubrey later leaned against the counter as she watched the ball of dough proof in a glass bowl. Her mind wandered, not to Stacie this time, but to this house. The simplicity of everything in it was such a contrast to the cluttered fullness of her childhood home, yet somehow—she pictured her parents’ faces when she returned empty-handed once more on a long string of failures—this house felt so much…warmer. She smoothed down the apron, glancing down at the words emblazoned across her chest. It was so silly—"Kiss the Cook” punctuated by a lipstick kiss. Yet so bold and so unapologetic. It was so befitting for a woman like Stacie, and so far away from the woman Aubrey always thought she had to be to fit in anywhere.

“Hey.” Aubrey looked up in time to catch the tail end of Stacie’s sheepish smile. She was still wearing her coveralls, zipped down so that it draped slightly around her elbows, enough to reveal the straps of her tank top and the lines of her toned biceps. In her hands, however, she held a small stack of clothes and a towel. “I, uh, thought you might be more comfortable in some clean clothes,” she said. “I can clean up here, if you’d like to take a shower?”

“That sounds nice,” Aubrey admitted. She hadn’t thought about her dusty clothes and matted hair in a while. “I didn’t even think that far. Thank you.” She took the folded clothes from Stacie, fingers brushing ever-so-slightly. They exchanged awkward, polite smiles before passing by each other. Aubrey lingered at the door for a moment before turning the corner, her teeth worrying her bottom lip as she watched Stacie pull on a pair of yellow dish gloves. “Maybe we can put the toppings on together later?” 

Stacie flashed her a wider, sunnier grin. “That sounds fun.”

Aubrey nodded, unwittingly mirroring a fraction of her infectious smile. “Please eat the macaroni salad in the meantime, or you’re going to be hungry.”

Twenty minutes later, Stacie was just about to take the dough out of the bowl when Aubrey returned wearing her old college sweatshirt and a pair of yoga pants. She’d pulled her hair into a ponytail, and she looked happier and more comfortable already. “You studied at MIT?” Aubrey asked, pointing to the letters across the red sweatshirt. “When did you graduate?”

Stacie shrugged a shoulder. “Eight, nine years ago?”

“Wow, we could’ve passed each other in Boston a hundred times and we’d never know,” Aubrey said as she sidled up next to Stacie. While Stacie rolled out the dough, Aubrey retrieved the rest of the ingredients from the fridge, along with a knife and cutting board.

“Damn, you’re so right,” Stacie chuckled. “Although...you said you did everything right, so we probably didn’t run in the same circles. I probably could’ve used a girl like you in my life.”

Aubrey’s knife stopped, poised above the mushroom on the board. She raised a brow. “What does that mean?” She asked.

Stacie turned to meet her eyes. She quirked a smile, amused by the slight annoyance she found there. “It means I probably would’ve studied a lot more if I knew there were beautiful women like you hanging out at the library,” she said with a wink.

Aubrey blushed, dropping her gaze to the mushrooms she was slicing. “You got a job at NASA, so you’re probably good.”

Stacie clicked her tongue. “Could’ve finished two years earlier and saved me a ton of heartache though.”

“There’s nothing wrong with making the most of your life,” Aubrey said. “They say every failure is just a door to opportunity.” She shook her head. “I wouldn’t know, but…you got here. You’ve got a nice house. A nice life, I think. So…maybe whatever happens…happens for a reason.” She turned to Stacie with a half-smile. “I have to tell myself that, so I don’t completely lose my mind.”

“It is a pretty nice life,” Stacie said. Aubrey handed her the tomato sauce and a spatula. She mumbled her thanks. “Just a bit lonely sometimes.”

“I can see how that could be true.”

Later, as they sat down in the dining nook with slices of pizza and scoops of salad on their plate, they studied each other from across the table. The silence was somewhere between awkward and comfortable, the kind where they each wanted to know so much more about the other, but weren’t sure where to begin. Aubrey was fascinated by the range of Stacie’s expressions, and the way she lit up even when engaging in simple small talk in between the silence. Stacie found herself enamoured with the way Aubrey gave her her attention, and the slight tilt of her head when she listened.

“You’re a fantastic cook,” Stacie said. Little could Aubrey have known how much Stacie disliked small talk, and yet there wasn’t a thing about Aubrey that didn’t tickle her curiosity. “Did your parents teach you?”

Aubrey lowered her forkful of macaroni salad, eyes turned up to the ceiling as she mulled over the question. “I suppose my mother did. She’s a proper Southern woman to her core. Always believed that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, and if a woman can’t cook, then she wasn’t getting herself a man.” She scoffed. “Of course, they also wanted the whole Harvard success story, and the grandchildren and the picket fence.”

Stacie made a face. “God, I can’t imagine. Sounds like a lot of pressure.”

“Yeah, pressure isn’t a strong enough word for it when you’ve got an emotionally-stunted military father and two older brothers who would cut off their arm to make Daddy proud. They didn’t, of course, so one went became a highly successful corporate lawyer, and the other a highly successful neurosurgeon.” Aubrey flashed a bitter smile. “I’m the one nobody talks about. Except behind my back, of course.”

Stacie wanted to reach across the table to take her hand, but settled instead for what she hoped to be a comforting smile. “Well, did they get it?”

Aubrey blinked. “Get what?”

“Daddy’s approval.”

“I…don’t know,” Aubrey said slowly. Her brows went up. She paused to take a bite of her salad to give herself a few extra moments to roll the question around her mind. “I guess I’ve never really thought about it from their perspective. We’ve…never been close, and I guess I’ve been too busy being preoccupied with my own disappointments my whole life.”

“I can understand that,” Stacie replied with a nod. “Nothing feels worse than the feeling of letting everyone down.”

“I can’t imagine you ever letting anyone down,” Aubrey said with a tilt of her head. It was a silly thing to say—an impossibility for even the most beloved minds—and Aubrey felt the heat rise up her neck.

Luckily, before the embarrassment can turn into any serious self-deprecation, Stacie laughed. “Oh, I don’t think anybody quits NASA and runs out to the middle of nowhere to rebuild their whole life as a rural car mechanic because they’ve got all the answers. I would love to say I rose above the expectations and the blatant sexism and learned to celebrate instead of running in the rat race, but no.” Stacie looked away when a sudden rawness took her right back to the vulnerability she thought she’d left behind. She sucked in a breath. “Nothing I did _ever_ felt good enough for anybody, and that’s just my professional life. That doesn’t even touch the surface for some of my relationships. Crazy toxic stuff.” Stacie scoffed. “Point is, I got tired of letting myself down for the sake of people who aren’t even worth my time. Couldn’t do it anymore. Simple as that.”

Aubrey stopped chewing. Paused to swallow as she held Stacie’s eyes. “I…can’t recall a time where I—I mean, I don’t even know what it looks like to…to…” She dropped her eyes as she tried to recall the words that could paint some semblance to a lifetime of bottled emotions.

“To think about what you want for a change?”

She glanced up at Stacie’s sympathetic smile. “Yeah. I guess so. It just…never really mattered, I guess.”

“Trust me, it matters,” Stacie said. Because it starts with the little things, and then it just snowballs. Like”—Stacie pointed at the last slice of pizza at center of the table—“do you want the last slice?”

Aubrey frowned at sudden non sequitur. “Um, is this a test?”

Stacie grinned. “Maybe.”

Aubrey hesitated, confused by the mischievous shine in Stacie’s green eyes. “Well, if you—"

Stacie shook her head. “Do _you_ want the last slice?”

Aubrey’s gaze darted between Stacie and the slice of pizza. She made lunch for Stacie, who worked a physically demanding job in the heat—she searched Stacie’s face to see if she wanted it too, but she simply smiled patiently.

“Okay, yes,” Aubrey said finally. She reached out for the last slice and jumped when Stacie caught her hand in mid-air before she could graze her fingers along the crust.

“What if I want it too?” She asked.

Aubrey stared at her fingers squeezed between Stacie’s, confusion setting in for a moment before she attempted to retract her hand. Stacie held on tight with a quirk of her brow that seemed to have a way of sucking the moisture out of Aubrey’s mouth. “Well?”

“I…don’t know what you want me to say,” Aubrey mumbled.

Stacie could see the frustration building in the purse of her lip. “Just tell me what you want.”

“You can have it,” Aubrey replied. “You’re working.”

“C’mon, Aubrey. You can do better than that,” Stacie chuckled.

“It’s just pizza! And I made it for you.”

Finally, Stacie let her go. “It’s not just pizza,” she said. She scooped the slice up with the pie server they’d left on the side of the plate. “Every time you deny yourself what you want or need, it adds up. It only takes eight slices to realize you’ve missed out on an entire pizza, you know.” She dropped the slice on Aubrey’s plate with a smile. “You deserve that slice as much as I do.”

Aubrey chuckled and shook her head, a faint blush colouring her cheeks. “You’re really something.” She picked up the slice of pizza. “You’re used to getting your way, aren’t you?”

Stacie shrugged. “Maybe I just know how to ask for things.”

“Uh huh.”

“For example, I think you should come help me out at the shop this afternoon. Get your mind off things. What do you think?”

“I think…it’s a little weird you told me to shower and you put me in these super comfy clothes, and then you want me to go outside and get myself covered in dirt and grime again.”

Stacie threw her head back with a laugh. “Oh, you know how to dodge a question, don’t you? I suppose the situation is a little backwards since I just came up with the idea. Doesn’t a shower feel great though? You can take another later if you want.” She grinned, as if she knew full well how contagious her smile was. “C’mon. I’ll get you a set of work clothes. I really could use an extra hand.”

* * *

An hour later, Aubrey was in a matching set of coveralls, standing awkwardly behind Stacie while trying very hard not to stare at the way she was bent over under the hood of a battered pick-up. Her hands were shoved into the large pockets, and she was trying to listen while Stacie spoke. Something about the old lady who owned this vehicle and pie. Suddenly, Stacie turned, and she instantly tore her eyes away and at the dirt road beyond the open garage doors, pretending to look at the sky.

Aubrey didn’t catch the knowing smile tugging at her lips. “Nice day, isn’t it?” Stacie said with a chuckle.

“Yeah,” Aubrey mumbled. “I guess it’s not something I notice a lot. The weather.”

“You should,” Stacie said, turning back to the car. “The world can be a beautiful place.”

“You don’t really need my help out here, do you?” Aubrey said, scuffing the toe of her sneakers across the floor. Luckily, she had kept the extra pair of shoes in her car—she wasn’t sure she could pull off a coverall and heels kind of look.

“I do. You’re keeping me company,” Stacie said. “And you’re holding down the fort in case any customers come in.”

“Right. The many, many customers coming in here,” Aubrey said drily.

As if on cue, they suddenly heard the distant rumble of a car coming down the road. Stacie tried not to laugh when she turned to see Aubrey walking out through the garage doors to catch a glimpse of the car, eager to greet whoever it was passing through. Stacie wiped her hands on her coveralls and leaned back against the car to watch the sun and the breeze soften her eyes and the ever-present seriousness in her expression.

Beautiful, she quietly marveled.

As the car came closer, Stacie recognized the familiar clunking of an old truck. “Oh no,” she mumbled, pushing off her perch to join Aubrey outside.

A red Chevy soon came into view, confirming the dread Stacie instinctively felt. “What the hell is she doing here?”

Aubrey glanced up at her, shielding her eyes from the sun as she did so. “You know this person?”

“Everybody knows everybody within a hundred-mile radius,” Stacie sighed. “But yeah. That’s Chloe.”

The next question died on Aubrey’s lips when the truck stopped in front of them, and out jumped a vaguely familiar auburn-haired woman in a straw cowboy hat. She met Stacie halfway, throwing her arms around her neck in a tight hug. “Staciiiie,” She whined. “Ugh, I’m _so_ happy to see you.”

Aubrey watched, a little confused and a lot annoyed—irrationally so—as this woman clung to Stacie. From Stacie’s reaction, she wondered whether this woman was a lover she didn’t want Aubrey to know about. They seemed striking enough as a couple—the redhead was gorgeous with her tan skin and denim cut-offs.

The redhead looked up, noticing Aubrey for the first time, and gasped.

“Omigod, I’m _so_ sorry, I didn’t realize you had…company?” The woman—Chloe—pulled away, her hands still around Stacie’s neck as she looked up at her with furrowed brows. “ _Please_ tell me you found another hot mechanic in the middle of nowhere, and that she’s _not_ wearing your clothes for entirely different reasons.”

Stacie rolled her eyes and peeled Chloe’s hands from her neck, dropping them with practiced exasperation. “She’s not a mechanic, but—”

“ _Stacie_!” Chloe cried, her jaw unhinging slightly in a disbelieving scoff.

“It’s not what you think, Chlo,” Stacie replied wearily, as if speaking to a child as she rubbed her eyes with a thumb and forefinger. “And you’re being rude. Why—”

“Omigod, you’re _so_ right,” she said, flouncing toward Aubrey with a grin. “ _So_ sorry I didn’t introduce myself right away”—she extended a hand, five fingers open in a way Aubrey didn’t know whether she should perceive as a threat—“I’m Chloe! What’s your name?”

Aubrey took her hand slowly, lips pursed with suspicion. “Aubrey,” she replied curtly.

“Ooh, you’re so serious,” Chloe said, her bright blue eyes shining with wonder. She tilted her head. “You’re not her usual type.”

“Oh my god, Chloe! You did _not_ come here just to embarrass me,” Stacie cried, pulling a rag from her pocket to whip it at the back pocket of Chloe’s jeans.

Chloe yelped, letting go of Aubrey’s hand to jump back. Her wide, incredulous eyes soon narrowed. “Did you just slap me in the ass with that nasty towel?” She demanded. “I know where you’re ticklish, Conrad.”

Aubrey watched on, dumbfounded but amused.

Before Stacie could reply, Chloe snagged the rag right from her hands and turned back to Aubrey with a sweet smile. “Sorry about that,” she said, throwing the rag far into the garage. She ignored Stacie’s loud “Hey!” and shook her hair around her shoulders as if nothing was wrong. “Anyway, you have really incredible eyes.”

Aubrey shifted uncomfortably, wondering if she’d fallen into some sort of strange libertine cult after all. It was hard to take such a compliment seriously when Chloe’s own eyes were bluer than any blue she’d ever seen. Strangely, she felt a little out of sorts, like a peacock needing to display his tail-feathers. She straightened her posture. “Thanks,” she told her blandly.

Chloe studied her quietly for a moment, then glanced over at Stacie, who was sulking beside her with her arms crossed.

“We’re wives, you know,” Chloe said suddenly. She wore a proud smile, both hands on her hips as she puffed out her chest, as if flashing tail-feathers of her own.

Aubrey’s stomach dropped, eyes widening ever so slightly with shock.

“No, we’re not!” Stacie said, giving Chloe a shove as she turned to Aubrey in a panic. “Oh my god, why the fuck would you—we’re not. Chloe and I are not married. I would never!”

Chloe raised a brow. “Hurtful, much?” Then, she shrugged. “Well, not technically, I guess, but we’re _basically_ married.”

Chloe took a step toward Aubrey, but was quickly stopped by an outstretched arm. “I’m going to start over,” Stacie said, throwing Chloe a glare. “Chloe, this is Aubrey. Aubrey, tis is Chloe, former pop princess and present pain-in-my-ass. She’s also Beca’s wife.”

“You love me though,” Chloe said, clutching the outstretched arm and puckering her lips.

“Sometimes, I really don’t,” Stacie replied with a roll of her eyes.

Chloe laughed when Stacie clapped a hand on her hat and pushed it over her eyes. When she took off her hat to fix her hair, Aubrey suddenly recalled the wedding photo she’d seen that morning. “Yeah, I married Stacie’s best friend,” Chloe explained with a grin and a flash of a diamond ring on her finger, “and they’re basically a two-for-one deal. It’s like… _Sister Wives_! I didn’t watch that show, but I assume it’s like that.”

Relief rushed through Aubrey’s lungs when she realized she’d been holding her breath for a while. With practiced control, she simply nodded, not wanting to give anything away to Chloe’s scrutiny.

“Speaking of a two-for-one deal, where’s Beca?” Stacie asked with a frown. “I thought the two of you simultaneously explode into rainbow confetti whenever you’re not within six feet of each other.”

Chloe groaned. “Don’t even remind me of that stupid-head,” she grumbled.

“Uh oh.”

“Should I give you two a moment?” Aubrey asked, half turned to leave. “I can head back inside.”

“Oh, no, no, no, no, please stay,” Chloe replied, grabbing her hand with enthusiasm, “I could use an objective third-party opinion. Well, the opinion that, objectively, Beca is a stupid-head, of course.”

“Right…”

“Do you want something to drink?” Stacie asked. “I’ve got a couple of cokes in the mini fridge. We can get out of the sun.”

“Ooh, yes!” Chloe clapped her hands and drummed her fingers together. “I’ll help myself.”

As Chloe skipped off into the garage, Stacie turned to Aubrey with a sheepish smile. “Sorry about all that. Chloe’s a bit of a character, I guess.”

Aubrey studied her for a moment. “You don’t have anything to apologize for,” she said with a tilt of her head.

Stacie nodded slowly. “You looked a little uncomfortable,” she mumbled, “so…I’m…sorry about that, I guess?”

Aubrey blushed—did her poker face give away her jealousy? She wondered as she tried to keep her shame at bay. “I wasn’t,” she said a little too quickly. “Uncomfortable, that is.”

Stacie nodded, unconvinced. “Okay, then.”

* * *

By some strange twist of fate, Aubrey found herself alone with Chloe in a beautiful red Mustang in Stacie’s backyard. It had been a very long and surreal day, but admittedly the most fun she’d had in a while.

The three of them had spent the last hour in the garage, with Stacie working away at an old tractor while Chloe told them about her fight with her wife. She had been begging Beca to go dancing with her for some time, but she’d refused until the tension of the topic had boiled over. “I was a performer for a long time,” Chloe had explained to Aubrey, “and I don’t miss much about the industry, but I really, really miss the dancing. I used to choreograph all my own dances, you know. Beca _knows_ how much it means to me.”

“But Beca isn’t like you, Chlo,” Stacie said, peering over the green tractor, waving a wrench around.

“No…but, I participate in her hobbies.” Chloe puffed her cheeks. “I just want to dance with her,” she mumbled.

Stacie chuckled. “Beca likes to make music, and you like to sing—she’s not exactly twisting your arm.”

“Ugh, you always take her side!” Chloe, who had been seated on a work bench with her legs dangling off the side, slung an arm around Aubrey standing beside her, jolting her at the unexpected touch. “What do you think, Bree? Can I call you Bree?”

Aubrey nodded stiffly. “I don’t mind, but…I’m not sure it’s my place to comment.”

Stacie stood, leaning one arm on the tractor with her other hand on her hip. “Chloe, you’re putting Aubrey in an awkward situation.” She then walked over, her voice soft as she tilted Chloe’s chin slightly to meet her dejected expression head-on. “Look—knowing her, she’s going to be storming over here in like an hour tops. When she gets here, you’re going to have a conversation with her, okay?” Chloe softened and quietly nodded. “You know she’d do anything for you, Chlo, but you gotta know what she’s giving up for your agenda and vice versa. Listen to each other properly, and I promise you’ll both stop being stupid-heads.”

And Aubrey had watched Stacie’s profile, watched the way her kindness and patience reached out and wrapped around others like a warm blanket. A part of her braced for the jealousy to rear its ugly head once more, but it never came. The way Chloe leaned her cheek against Stacie’s shoulder in a one-armed hug, and the sheepish smile that tugged Stacie’s lips when she met Aubrey’s eyes—there was something so intimate about this moment. And it had been so long since she’d been a part of anything like this, even as an outsider looking in.

Later, another car rolled up to the garage, and Chloe had taken Aubrey’s hand and led her to the backyard, leaving Stacie behind with a pout to deal with the customer. Aubrey had laughed—the expression was so out of place given everything she’d seen from Stacie, yet so adorable. When Chloe peeled back the tarp in the backyard to reveal a beautiful red Mustang, she was stunned. For once, Stacie couldn’t be further from her mind. Chloe urged her into the car, which she did so with hesitation.

“Are you sure?” Aubrey had asked. “It’s so…clean.”

“And we’ll keep it that way,” Chloe said with a grin. “Stacie’s not gonna get mad at you, and she’d never stay mad at me.”

Chloe kicked off her shoes and squeezed herself into the backseat with a satisfied sigh. She beckoned Aubrey inside with a tilt of her head. Hesitantly, she eventually lowered herself into the passenger seat. “Feels pretty luxurious, doesn’t it?” Chloe said, wrapping her arm around the driver’s seat. “Beca bought this for Stacie as a housewarming gift. It looked like a pretty crappy car, but Stacie loved it. Fixed it up super nice too!” Chloe laughed, petting the headrest lovingly. “Too bad she doesn’t run. Something about the engine.”

“Oh.” Aubrey frowned. “I don’t know much about cars, but that sounds like a shame.”

“Kinda,” Chloe said with a shrug. “It’s been keeping her busy for the last two years. She needed the distraction, I think.”

“Oh.” Aubrey met Chloe’s eyes. She wanted to ask, wanted to know everything she could about the woman slowly changing her mind about what this world had to offer, and she sensed Chloe’s expectancy—she just didn’t like the way her blue eyes shone so mischievously.

When she said nothing more, Chloe leaned back against the car’s frame. She took a moment to peer up at the blue sky above over the brim of her hat, her legs stretched out across the backseat casually. “So, what’s the deal between you and Stacie?” she asked.

Aubrey felt Chloe’s gaze burning into the side of her face, but she kept her own eyes forward—at the dusty path between the garage and the long grass of a neighbouring, unoccupied space. “My car broke down this morning, and I have nowhere to go. No money to get anywhere even if I did,” Aubrey said quietly. “Stacie is giving me a place to stay until I figure out my next steps, I guess.”

“Oh…that sounds rough,” Chloe said, the playfulness disappearing from her voice. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t what I expected.”

“It is what it is,” Aubrey said, turning to give Chloe a small smile. “Once you hit the bottom a few times, you just get…complacent. But Stacie’s been very kind, and that’s…I mean, I—I’ve spent so long being angry at the world that I’d forgotten kindness even existed. I couldn’t even be nice to myself, and to see it from a stranger…it really means more than I could say.”

Chloe was quiet for a long moment. Aubrey watched as she fidgeted with the hem of her shirt. “I know what you mean,” she said finally. She looked up, meeting Aubrey’s smile with her own. “You know, I…I’ve been in the entertainment industry since I was thirteen. When you grow up in that kind of world, you start losing sight of what’s real. Like…your whole self-worth is entirely dependent on others—the sales, the followers, the fans—it’s all a numbers game. You think it’s all love, but you’re just a commodity. So…I guess what I’m trying to say is that I know a thing or two about rock bottoms.”

“That’s…exactly how I feel about…my whole life, really,” Aubrey said incredulously. “Self-worth...I don’t even know what that means anymore.”

“So, you’re an ex-celebrity too?” Chloe giggled. “You’re too hot not to be.”

Aubrey shook her head. “Harvard graduate and jobless mess,” she said, pointing to herself. “But it’s the same principle, isn’t it? You spend your whole life chasing accolades, trying to appease people who don’t really care about you. Stacie was right—you don’t even have time to think about what _you_ want.”

“And then you have nothing to fall back on when the world leaves you behind,” Chloe said with a sad smile. “So, you enrol in a lifetime of therapy. The end.”

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Aubrey said turning in her seat to face Chloe completely, “what did you do when that happened? When you weren’t…”

“Relevant anymore?” Chloe shrugged. “The world keeps spinning regardless or not you’re sprawled out on your floor with your mascara running down your face. I…tried to do other things for a while, but…nothing really worked out. I was waiting tables for four years before I met Beca. I don’t know how she found me, but at that point, she was really at the height of her career. Every album she touched was amazing, so when she reached out, I thought I was dreaming. Unfortunately, the execs didn’t really want anything to do with me—I, uh, had a brief stint in rehab when I was fifteen, then again when I was twenty, but that’s a whole different story.”

“So, you guys fell in love, got married, and ran away together,” Aubrey said, nodding.

“That’s the very, very short version, yes. The happy ending edition, you could say,” Chloe chuckled. “But there was a lot in between that we’re still…trying to overcome, I suppose. The stuff that shouldn’t matter—it lingers around the good parts and it makes you feel like a bad person, or like you don’t deserve anything good.”

“The other shoe,” Aubrey murmured, leaning her cheek against the seat.

“What?”

“Like, you’re waiting for the other shoe to drop?”

Chloe brightened. “Yes, exactly!” She tapped the driver’s seat excitedly. “Like, for the longest time, people accused me of sleeping with Beca just to get my name back out there again. I know, like, I don’t have the best dating history—certainly not the most private—but people followed me everywhere so they could prove what they thought, you know?”

“Confirmation bias,” Aubrey said, nodding.

“Yes! And—and, Beca and I…god, we were _so_ not what people thought. Beca is like the sweetest person in the world, and I think we both knew early on how important we were going to be to each other, so…we _really_ took it slow. I think if it weren’t for the paps, I probably would’ve asked her to marry me on our second date,” Chloe laughed. “But I didn’t, obviously. So, like, we really thought we’d be in the clear once people lost interest in us. But you never really know when those nasty voices crop up with exactly the kind of words you don’t want to hear, you know? Stuff like ‘you’re untalented’ or ‘you’re worthless’ or ‘you’re ugly.’ ‘You don’t deserve anything.’ ‘People you love are going to leave you.’ All that crap. Even when you’re super happy.”

“I haven’t been happy in a long time,” Aubrey admitted, “so…I don’t know.”

“You might not even realize you’re happy sometimes,” Chloe said with an empathetic smile. “Like, are you happy today? Were you happy yesterday? How do you know?”

Aubrey blinked. “Well…it was a bad morning, but…”

“Meeting Stacie was pretty great, right?” Chloe beamed, sitting up to puff out her chest. “And meeting me, of course!”

“Definitely net positive,” Aubrey laughed. “I never expected to find so much common ground with a former pop star before.”

“Just because I’m a ginger and ‘Dance Monkey’ is my life story, it doesn’t mean I don’t have a soul, you know.”

“I would never have assumed that.”

Chloe laughed, then reached forward then and squeezed Aubrey’s shoulder. “I like you, Bree,” Chloe declared with a wide grin. “Meeting you has been a net positive today for me too. I can see why Stacie likes you.”

Aubrey’s cheeks warmed almost immediately. “Um, we’re not—”

“Sh, sh, sh, shhhh”—Chloe pressed a finger to Aubrey’s lips—“you don’t have to say a word,” she said with a wink. “Oh, by the way, when Beca gets here, you should probably hide.”

“Why?” Aubrey frowned against Chloe’s finger.

“Beca is really protective of Stacie,” Chloe said with sudden seriousness as she dropped her finger. “Stacie’s been through a lot. I won’t go too far into it, but I just _know_ that she’s gonna lose her mind if she knew you were sleeping over.”

“But I’m—we’re not—”

Chloe’s finger was immediately back on Aubrey’s lips. “Ah, ah, ah,” she said. “I get it. I really do. Trust me.”

Aubrey furrowed her brows, slowly tugging Chloe’s hand away from her face. “I feel like you don’t,” she said.

But Chloe wasn’t listening. “Trust me, Bree, it’ll be much easier if you don’t get caught up in a weird misunderstanding right off the bat. Stacie is a good one—it might not be easy, but she’s worth it.”

As if on cue, a car door slammed loudly, echoing into the wide-open air, followed by Stacie’s distant voice.

“Chloe?” Someone called loudly.

Chloe’s eyes widened. “Get down, get down!” She leapt out of the car, hitting the grass with both feet, and haphazardly pulled the tarp across the Mustang over Aubrey’s crouched position. The tarp dragged over the windshield, draping at just the right angle to give Aubrey a view of Chloe’s arm and glimpses of a red-faced brunette rushing out of the garage.

As ridiculous as Aubrey felt, she also couldn’t deny the thrill and intrigue of witnessing a private exchange.

“There you are, Chlo,” the brunette said with a breath of relief. This was undeniably the brunette in the picture she’d seen, though she looked a little older with her messy ponytail and thick frames. “You’ve gotta stop running off like that,” she said softly. “It really freaks me out.”

“Seriously, Bec?” Chloe said, her voice rising a little. “You came all the way here to tell me what I can and can’t do. I feel like you already made it pretty clear earlier.”

“I’m sorry,” Beca replied with a wince. “That came out wrong. I just…” She grit her teeth, clawing a little at the sleeve of her denim shirt as she tried to find the right words. “I just—fuck, why is this so hard?” She rolled her eyes up to the sky and exhaled deeply. “Look, you’re…you’re the best thing to ever happen to me, Chloe, you have to know that.” She raised her hands, as if she could hold the words she wanted to say in the air. “I know that sometimes I can say the wrong things, and I can be impatient and—Jesus Christ, I don’t even know why you’re with me sometimes.” She closed her eyes slowly, took a breath, and opened them again. “I…called Jess for an emergency session after you left.”

“You did?” Chloe said incredulously.

Beca nodded, embarrassment colouring her cheeks slightly. “I promised I am taking the therapy thing seriously, and I am.” Chloe began to take a step toward her, but stopped, retreating back to the car instead. Beca gave her a small smile in understanding. “We talked it, and about some of the things I said and where it might be coming from. I think…at the end of the day, it’s not really about the dancing. ‘Cause, I—I love dancing with you in our living room or with the dogs and you don’t care that I’m not very good at it.”

“You don’t have to be good at it,” Chloe said gently.

“I know that…intellectually, I know that, but—it’s really stupid and really irrational, but the real worry is losing you. I worry that if we go to these classes, everyone will see us together and I’m gonna hold you back or you’re gonna find someone there who can dance with you in a way that I never will—god, this sounds even more stupid out loud,” Beca groaned into her palms.

“It’s not stupid,” Chloe said, finally taking the few steps to stand in front of Beca. She wrapped her arms around her in a tight embrace. “It’s the other shoe.”

“Um…”

“The other shoe,” Chloe repeated, stepping back to take Beca’s hands into her own. “I didn’t get mad because you wouldn’t take dance classes with me. I got scared because I thought maybe you got sick of this side of me, or like, you think I’m annoying and boring and—and I don’t know—stupid.”

“You could never be boring or stupid to me.”

Chloe gasped. “You’re calling me annoying?”

Beca smiled. “Yeah, but I love that about you”—she leaned her forehead on Chloe’s shoulder—“I love you so much, Chloe.”

“I love you too, Beca,” Chloe sighed, squeezing Beca against her. “You’ve got me for life, whether we dance or not.”

* * *

Hours later, Aubrey laid in the darkness of Stacie’s living room, thinking about the other shoe and the tentative joy Chloe and Beca were both so fearful of. She looked back on her own life and picked out the dusty memories that seldom seemed important until now. Sitting on her father’s broad shoulders when she was a child. Getting asked out to prom even though she was too busy chaperoning to enjoy it. The day she got her acceptance letter from Harvard, and her mother’s misty eyes. A sloppy first kiss. Waking up. Drafting up her business plan. Meeting Stacie. Eating lunch. Meeting Chloe. Making a friend. Watching Chloe and Beca fall deeper in love. A quiet dinner with Stacie. Reading a book for fun in Stacie’s armchair while Stacie periodically asked for help with her crossword.

That good kind of tired when her head hit the pillow. That excited energy when you want to do so much more than sleep. The trepidation and the thrill when she thought Stacie was going to kiss her.

This was joy. These were all moments of joy.

She’d been mired in her failures for so long, conditioned to look for raining shoes for so long, that she never gave joy a chance.

She stared up at the ceiling, though she could not see it—it was so much darker out here than Aubrey’s suburban childhood home. She laid awake, wondering if she’d gotten it all wrong when she heard the squeak of the floorboards, followed by footsteps on the stairs.

Aubrey slowly pushed up on her elbows and glanced in the direction of the staircase. “Stacie?” She whispered.

Stacie’s footsteps drew a little closer. “Sorry, did I wake you?”

Aubrey shook her head, then quickly realized it was too dark for Stacie to see her. “No,” she said instead. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“Me neither,” Stacie admitted. “I was thinking about how rude it was to have you on the couch. Are you sure you don’t want to switch? It just doesn’t seem right.”

“I’m sure,” Aubrey chuckled. “You’ve done more than enough for me. I was just thinking about the day I had.”

“Yeah? Do you mind if I turn on the lamp?”

“Not at all.”

A tall, yellow lamp by the entryway illuminated the stairwell and part of the living room. Stacie stood beside it with a smile, dressed in a T-shirt and short shorts. The shadows accentuated her long legs beautifully, and Aubrey didn’t realize she was staring until Stacie spoke again. “I hope you had a good day here…in spite of everything else.”

“I did,” Aubrey said, hoping Stacie couldn’t see her blush when she met her eyes. “You and Chloe…I really don’t know how to thank you guys for…I guess not just listening to me, but sharing your stories and…trusting me with them?”

“It was a pleasure,” Stacie said with a grin. “Really. I should say thank you too for hiding from Beca. I can’t tell you how grateful I am that I didn’t have to go the entire afternoon being forced to listen to Beca’s monologues. You have no idea how that little chihuahua can get.”

Aubrey laughed. “Not at all. I feel like I witnessed something…kind of amazing. Unusual, maybe? I guess I’ve never seen a couple communicate like that.”

“Yeah, it’s been a journey for them both. That reminds me—Chloe asked me to tell you something just before they left. She said you inspired her with your shoe?” Stacie ran a hand through her hair. “I don’t really know what that means, but she seemed really happy, so thank you for that. I’m glad I can be a sanctuary for her, but sometimes…I don’t love being caught in the middle.”

“I should be the one thanking her,” Aubrey said quietly as she held Stacie’s gaze. “Seeing the two of them…made me realize a few things.”

“Oh? What kind of things? If you don’t mind my asking.”

Aubrey sat up fully, then patted the seat beside her for Stacie to sit. In the semi-covered darkness, Stacie made her way toward her. She pulled her legs beneath her and smiled when Aubrey offered a corner of her blanket. Warm beneath the blanket beside Aubrey, she settled in comfortably, leaning her elbow against the backrest as she anchored herself to Aubrey’s steady gaze.

Aubrey, sitting cross-legged with the blanket across her lap, fiddled with the edge of the plush fabric. “I guess…I’ve always thought that joy and sadness happened in phases. Like…when I stopped being unhappy, that was when I’ll be happy. But…I’ve been thinking a lot about what I told Chloe—about waiting for the other shoe to drop. I’ve been waiting, I think, for one thing that could make this unhappiness go away. But…It’s not really how it works, is it?”

Aubrey leaned against the couch and looked up at Stacie through her lashes. Stacie didn’t speak—couldn’t speak—as her breath caught in her throat. Under the low, yellow glow, Aubrey was the most beautiful creature she’d ever seen. Aubrey’s tongue darted across her lower lip, and Stacie’s eyes caught the movement. She felt the familiar pull, the beginnings of desire permeating into her conscious mind. She leaned back when Aubrey spoke again.

“Today should’ve been one of the worst days of my life,” she said quietly. “I lost my big chance to make something of my ideas. Essentially lost my car, because I don’t think I’ll be able to afford a new engine or a new car. Got stranded in the middle of nowhere and realized I’ve gone through thirty years of my life with no friends and nobody to call in a crisis. It should be cripplingly awful. The _worst_. But…it’s not. Far from it. Getting to know you and your friends today…was pretty great.”

“Meeting you has been pretty great for me too,” Stacie said with a smile. “I feel…connected to you somehow. Like we’ve met in a past life. This kind of connection…it doesn’t happen every day.”

“I think I know what you mean,” Aubrey replied with a tentative smile. “It’s so easy to be comfortable around you that it’s a little scary. I worry…like, I worry all the time…about all the ways that people can hurt me if they knew me, but you…there’s something about you that should scare me. But it doesn’t.”

Stacie grimaced a little, guilt prickling her heart with a hundred needles as she recalled the two times where she nearly crossed the line into an uninvited kiss. “I…don’t think you should let your guard down entirely around me,” she whispered, looking away into the darkness of the dining area.

“Why?”

Stacie glanced back and found Aubrey studying her intensely.

Stacie laughed a little to hide her discomfort, trying her best not to squirm under Aubrey’s gaze. “I find you very attractive, Aubrey,” she admitted. “I don’t know how pure my intentions are when I find myself wanting…to know everything about you.” Aubrey’s gaze dropped down to her hands in her lap, and Stacie’s heart dropped with them. “I’m sorry if that makes you uncomfortable—I mean, I totally get it—we—”

“I have a confession too,” Aubrey interrupted, so gently that she almost didn’t hear her.

Stacie shut her mouth immediately to stop the panicky rambling. She waited patiently, her hands fidgeting with a loose thread poking out of the curve of the couch to distract herself while Aubrey gathered her courage.

“When I was thinking about what made me happy today…earlier…I…there was a moment…” Aubrey quietly took a breath, then lifted her head to give Stacie an embarrassed smile in an effort to ignore the heat creeping up her neck and spreading across her cheeks. “There was a moment,” she repeated, “a really…exciting moment, where I…I thought you were going to kiss me.”

Stacie winced, her feet falling to the floor as an apology rushed from her lips. “I’m sorry, I—that was inappropriate. I don’t…I can’t really explain—”

“You told me I should stop denying what I want.”

Stacie stilled, her heart rattling wildly. She met Aubrey’s eyes once more and felt the connection spark something deep within her chest.

“I want you to kiss me.”

For one long moment, Stacie simply stared, wondering if she’d misheard. Her loneliness grappled for attention, and she wondered if she’d simply imagined it while the blood rushed to her ears.

Aubrey edged forward onto all fours, her lip pulled nervously between her teeth. “Unless…you don’t want to?”

“I do,” Stacie whispered, her voice cracking a little when she found her mouth exceedingly dry. “I really, really do. But…I don’t want you to think you have to just because—”

“I don’t."

Aubrey watched her expectantly, the MIT hoodie she wore hanging loosely to offer her an open view of her collarbones and the shadows playing across her chest. She was easily sexiest woman Stacie had ever met.

Stacie reached for the drawstring of her hoodie and gently encouraged her forward, licking her dry lips self-consciously when Aubrey quietly complied.

Aubrey’s heart hammered as she drew close enough for Stacie to slip her hand beneath her hood. The anticipation—the burning touch—ignited the long-dormant desire deep in her abdomen. It burned, hot with a wholeness, a fullness she could not describe when Stacie finally pressed her lips against her own.

They moved against each other, tentative at first as they took in the soft sweetness of the other. Aubrey could feel the hunger in Stacie’s touch as she pulled Aubrey onto her lap, could hear her own heart laying bare with nothing to lose but the thrill of joy in Stacie’s strong hands.

Stacie’s heart seemed to beat out of her chest as she put her loneliness aside to feel Aubrey against her. She savoured her flavour, the softness of her lips. Aubrey opened her mouth to let her in, and she took her time, exploring every inch.

God, she couldn’t remember the last time she felt so alive.

Aubrey wrapped her arms around Stacie’s neck to deepen the kiss, pressing herself against her front as she pulled away the elastic, undid Stacie’s ponytail, and buried her fingers into her hair. Desire burned, so fiery it felt like it belonged to another person.

Stacie moaned quietly when Aubrey ground down against her. Her hands flew to her hips, against the thin fabric of her yoga pants, and creeping beneath to the burning skin beneath her hoodie. She was suddenly aware that her eyes had closed some time ago, pleasure pulling her in without her notice, and she opened them now to seek Aubrey’s in permission.

But Aubrey was ravenous. She pinned Stacie against the couch with the fabric of her T-shirt bundled in her hands, her tongue pushing, exploring, dancing against her own like it was hers to dominate. Her eyes were closed, and with heat quickly rising between them, Stacie hiked her sweatshirt a little higher, ran her palms against Aubrey’s side a little slower.

She wanted to give her time to stop her. A part of her _wanted_ her to stop her—that same part telling her that she was falling for this woman at the speed of light with every touch, and this was a very, very bad idea.

But that part of her subconscious wasn’t prepared. How could it have been? Not only did Aubrey not stop her, she broke the kiss to rip the MIT sweatshirt off her body, her hands draped around Stacie’s neck as she smiled at her, giving her a moment to take in the soft curves of her bare breasts and the warm lamplight splashed across her side. “I want you to touch me,” she whispered.

Stacie swallowed. She knew this was a dangerous line they could never return from, knew there was a thin line between desire and loneliness. She knew her heart could be destroyed yet again.

But Aubrey was so warm, so soft beneath her palms, her skin so delicious against her lips.

Stacie looked up from her chest and into her eyes, searching through the dark olive hues for a sign. Anything at all to feed the foreboding she’d come to expect. All she saw was mirrored desire—maybe they both needed the distraction. Maybe that’s all it was, all that it could be. Would it be so bad to give in?

Uncertainty flickered across Aubrey’s features at her hesitation, and she blushed, her hand slipping from Stacie’s cheek. Stacie sucked in a breath, her own hands tightening around Aubrey’s thighs for courage, and she kissed her once more. With renewed fervour, she wrapped Aubrey’s legs around her waist and lifted them both up and off the couch. Aubrey held her face in her hands and kissed her hard as Stacie carried her across the living room to the stairs, where Stacie pushed her down against the fourth step to lay her kisses down her neck. Aubrey gasped, grabbing the baluster when Stacie took a nipple between her teeth. With her free hand, she buried her fingers into Stacie’s hair, her chest heaving as she shivered with the desire for more.

“Bedroom,” Aubrey breathed. “Now. Please.”

Aubrey shakily pushed herself up, almost as soon as Stacie detached herself from her chest in surprise. She grabbed Stacie’s hand, tugging her up the steps. Stacie stumbled after her, dazed and still preoccupied by the memory of Aubrey’s breasts in her hand and mouth.

As soon as they stepped into her bedroom, Aubrey pulled Stacie’s t-shirt over her head and pushed her down onto the bed, straddling her lap a split second later to kiss her once more.

“I can’t believe I ever thought you didn’t know how to ask for what you want,” Stacie mumbled into her ear, against the soft skin of her jaw.

“You make it easy when you look at me like that,” Aubrey chuckled breathlessly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Long time no see! Hope everyone is having a wonderful and safe March so far. 
> 
> This story unintentionally became a bit too long, so I am posting the first part here. I don't think it will be super long (I have 21k so far), but I am kind of enjoying the character's journeys. A lot of this stuff has been on my mind, so this story is a bit of a stream-of-consciousness/therapy type of work. Originally, I had intended to write a smutty harlequin romance like the cowboy story I wrote a while ago, but welp--it goes to show you never know what happens as your works evolve!
> 
> Big thanks to BechloeStaubreyFan16 for reading my early draft and deeming it worthy to share with the world when I had my doubts. You're the best cheerleader, my friend :)
> 
> I hope you like what you're seeing so far and you'll stay with me for a while :) If you do, please leave a comment or a kudo. It really encourages me in this labour of love.


	2. Combustion

The next morning, Stacie was the first to stir awake. She first noticed Aubrey’s blonde hair, tucked beneath her chin, their naked bodies tangled together beneath the sheets. She moved her fingers, found them resting gently on Aubrey’s thigh. Her heart rattled as the memories of last night’s lovemaking and the fear that came with wakefulness vied for her headspace.

Aubrey was only passing through, she reminded herself. Once she left, her world would move on.

They’d both needed the comfort, the warmth of another body and another heart. This could never extend further than a night, no matter how wonderful that night was.

Aubrey sighed in her sleep then, squeezing closer in her sleep, and Stacie’s heart rattled faster.

Stacie knew this story well. She had the entire narrative written in her head—had lived through it so many times she’d memorized the lines. Once Aubrey woke up, the glow of lust would fade. She’d thank her, perhaps even kiss her as she gathered her clothes. And then she would fade away like the rest.

As she drifted back to sleep, the story looped vividly. Every person she opened her heart to had taken it and thrown it back at her. There was no reason to believe Aubrey would be different. Even if she didn’t steal from her, didn’t cheat on her, didn’t lie about who she was, didn’t leave without a word, there was no reason to believe she wouldn’t eventually become any or all of those things—she’d seen it so many times. The other shoe would inevitably drop. 

So why, why, why did her masochistic heart long for more?

* * *

Aubrey awoke wrapped up in Stacie’s arms. The sunlight was gentle through her soft blue curtains, and she reached up, brushing her fingertips ever so lightly against Stacie’s face—she couldn’t tell if she was still dreaming. Even the warmth Stacie radiated seemed too good to be true. Twenty-four hours ago, she’d been beat down once again by the machinations of the universe. Lost and confused, torn to nothing by her own hands. Six hours ago, she learned of wholeness at the hands of Stacie’s worship. She learned of belonging. Mattering. Even if it was only for a night, she mattered more than anybody else in the world, and for that alone, she smiled.

She placed a gentle kiss on Stacie’s forehead and eased herself out of her arms.

She pulled her hair back and threw on the t-shirt Stacie had worn last night. She’d been so preoccupied with Stacie’s shorts, her long, golden legs, and the near-combustible chemistry between them, that she’d never taken notice. The shirt, which was big on Stacie, fell down to Aubrey’s knees. It sported a blueprint of a spaceship, though it looked more like a vintage waffle-maker from her angle, with USS ENTERPRISE emblazoned across the top corner. It seemed like something out of science fiction, and Aubrey wondered if this was the sort of thing that captured Stacie’s imagination.

There was still so much she wanted to know about her.

As she pulled on her leggings from last night, she glanced over at Stacie’s sleeping face, her heart swelling inexplicably with affection. A part of her was excited to discover everything about this woman, while another dreaded the weight of time wrapped around them. Everything was moving so quickly, and she didn’t know how to slow it down or whether she wanted to. 

As she made her way downstairs and out the door to retrieve her things from her car, she resolved to talk to Stacie later today about her stay and how she could possibly work off the cost of getting her engine repaired. There were at least fifty ways she could figure out how to return home, and another fifty reasons why she didn’t want to. For now, she unlocked the garage with a spare key she found hanging in the living room, and made her way to her beat-up Taurus.

She’d just keyed open her car trunk when a sudden banging echoed through the garage. She yelped and looked around. She was alone, and the only light came from the open door she’d entered from.

_Bang! Bang! Bang!_

“Stacie? Are you in there?” A man called from the other side of the solid metal gates.

Aubrey looked around for the switch, but there were far too many bits and bobs and buttons she didn’t understand, so she ducked back through the door, into Stacie’s backyard, hoping there wasn’t some kind of large-scale emergency. Or an axe-murderer for that matter. She clutched tightly to her laptop bag just in case. She was about to cut through the path she’d seen yesterday to meet the visitor on the main road, but the man beat her to it.

A silver-haired man stopped by the covered Mustang, surprised, it seemed, by how far his bushy brows shot skyward.

“Oh! Hello there,” he said, pulling his hands out of his pockets.

“Hi,” Aubrey returned, one hand on the frame of the garage door while the other tightened her grip on her bag. “Can I help you?”

The man blinked. “Hope I didn’t scare ya,” he said, raising his hands. “I don’t mean any harm.” He hesitated when Aubrey still didn’t smile. She simply stared at him until he began to squirm a little, chuckling to expel the awkward energy between them. “That’s Stacie’s shirt, isn’t it?” the man said, studying her. “Unless I’m mistaken, she’s the only Trekkie around these parts under the age of forty.”

Aubrey looked down at her shirt. “Oh, is that what it is?” she mused, more to herself than to the man across the yard.

The man laughed, his voice deep and hearty. Finally, Aubrey loosened her grip on her bag and they both relaxed. “Yes, ma’am. You know, I don’t think I’ve seen you around before. I’m Roger,” he said, taking a few steps closer with his hand outstretched. Aubrey took an extra second to assess his intentions, then met him halfway and shook his hand with a firm grip.

“Yes, I suppose I’m new,” she replied with a polite smile.

“Funny Stacie didn’t mention she had such a pretty girlfriend,” Roger said with a sheepish smile. “I feel a little silly now about our little conversation yesterday. Don’t suppose she told you about all my attempts at meddling? It just never sat right with me that she should be out here all by her lonesome.” He chuckled. “She’s off the market, indeed.”

“Oh, we’re, um—”

“Don’t worry, my dear, I understand completely,” Roger interrupted. Aubrey frowned. Was interrupting her every time she wanted to explain herself a custom around these parts that she didn’t know about? “My niece will be disappointed, but between you and me, they probably wouldn’t last long unless Stacie’s willing to move to Wadley. And don’t tell anyone I said this, but even _I_ wouldn’t want to live over there. Oh, but I’m just running my mouth now.”

Unsure what to say to any of that, Aubrey simply smiled on and asked, “Do you need me to get Stacie for you? You seemed like you were in a hurry.”

“Oh, no, no, no, not at all,” Roger said, rubbing his neck with a palm. “She told me I could pick up my tractor this morning, and I’ve never seen her closed on a Tuesday, so I was just worried. Thought she might’ve gotten hurt or something.” He offered her a sheepish smile. “Glad to know she’s taken care of—she deserves a break, that one. Why don’t you just tell her ol’ Roger stopped by? I’ll come around again after lunch.”

Aubrey nodded slowly. “Of course.”

She walked Roger back to his truck and watched him drive away, feeling just the slightest bit unsettled by it all. Whatever was happening, she just hoped she wasn’t causing trouble.

* * *

When Stacie awoke alone in her bed, there was a moment of confusion, followed by terror and disappointment. Her first thought was that Aubrey had robbed her house and run off into the sunset. Her second thought was that she’d dreamed yesterday up entirely. That brought on a different rollercoaster of emptiness and relief.

She sat up, ran a hand through her hair, and slowly pieced reality back together.

She then got out of bed, looked around and picked up her shorts. Where in the world was her shirt?

Even as she brushed her teeth, topless still, reality felt strange and different. Eventually, she returned to her room and picked out an old t-shirt.

She was halfway down the stairs when she smelled eggs.

So, she didn’t make Aubrey up. Her heart began to race. Last night was real. More than that, Aubrey was real. And she was still here. Not by choice, she quickly reminded herself. While she stood there, dumbfounded by it all, Aubrey walked out of the kitchen. Her hair was up in a messy bun, and she was wearing her lost USS Enterprise shirt while carrying two plates to the dining table.

“Oh, hey,” she said, sporting a shy smile, “good morning.”

Stacie gaped. Between the smile and the oversized shirt, and the casual domesticity of the entire situation, Stacie’s entire body ceased to function.

A light dust of pink coloured Aubrey’s features. “I hope you like eggs on toast,” she said, shifting her gaze to the plates. “I…wasn’t sure what you like, so…I thought maybe I’d keep it simple. I’m happy to make anything else for you too. I can make a pretty mean frittata.”

“No, no,” Stacie mumbled quickly as she scrambled to reboot her brain. “You’re perfect—I-I mean, that’s perfect. Eggs on toast”—she gestured wildly to hide the slip and the fierce heat sweeping across her face—“perfect. Awesome. My favourite. Love it. Could eat it every day. So good.”

Aubrey raised a brow. “Okay,” she said slowly, “I’ve never met anybody with such strong feelings about eggs on toast before.”

“Oh, yeah, they don’t call me Stacie ‘Eggs’ Conrad for nothing,” Stacie said, laughing nervously as she approached the table. As she sat down, however, she silently prayed for the earth to swallow her up whole, because _that had to be the dumbest fucking thing that’s ever been said by anyone in the entire history of existence._

Aubrey snorted. “People call you _Eggs_?”

“…Yes.”

Because apparently, this was the hill Stacie’s sleep-addled, panicked-driven, fritzed-out brain wanted to die on.

Aubrey handed her a fork—the beginnings of a smirk dangling from her lips was just cruel, Stacie sighed inwardly. “That’s cute,” Aubrey said simply.

“I’m…just kidding,” Stacie said with a queasy smile. “Please don’t call me Eggs.”

Aubrey sat down, her expression painfully neutral as she sliced into her breakfast with a knife and fork. “Are you sure? I was just thinking of rebranding your whole business. ‘Eggs’ Auto Repair’ has a nice ring to it.”

Stacie rolled her eyes. “Please don’t.”

“No need to be shy,” Aubrey said. She quirked a smile, as sweet as she could muster. “I can imagine it would be the kind of name that’s…pretty fun to scream in bed.”

Stacie dropped the toast she’d picked up, yelping when it fell upside down, splattering yolk all over her plate like a crime scene.

Finally, Aubrey laughed. “You’re a bit of a romcom heroine, aren’t you, Eggs? Beautiful, but clumsy.”

Stacie lifted her eyes to meet Aubrey’s. This woman surely couldn’t be the same as the one from yesterday. Bold and free, smiling and teasing, and enjoying every second of it. She’d seen this confident side last night, had loved every moment of Aubrey’s upper hand. She blushed, thinking about it now, but something about this daylight exchange… over breakfast… Aubrey in her favourite t-shirt… this was something different entirely. Her heart would not shut up.

If Aubrey noticed the way Stacie seemed to be malfunctioning, she didn’t show it. She simply kept talking as she poured a glass of water for herself. “Roger came by this morning. I went to get my things from my car, and he came pounding on the door. Said it was weird that you weren’t open.”

It was nearly eleven, and she’d slept in without realizing. “Oh, fuck! His tractor,” she mumbled. Somehow, she’d managed to forget she had a job entirely. Aubrey seemed to have a way of shifting everything on its axis.

“He said he’d come by again after lunch.” She paused. “He seemed to think we’re together. I hope that doesn’t create trouble for you. He mentioned trying to set you up with his niece?” There was a hint of amusement in her voice. “I suppose it’s my fault for wearing your shirt.”

“Yeah, to be honest, I’m having a lot of trouble focusing with you in that shirt.”

Aubrey tilted her head, feigning innocence. “Would you prefer I take it off?”

Stacie sucked in a breath as images of last night shot through her brain like a comet. “Um…” came her intelligent reply.

Aubrey bit down a grin. “I can change into something else, I mean.”

“Oh, um, it’s okay. It just… it looks great on you,” Stacie blurted. “Really great.”

“Thanks,” Aubrey replied with a smile. There was something between them that emboldened Aubrey like nothing else. She’d never been the type to flirt, but something about Stacie made her so easy to tease. Her reactions were not only adorable, they made her feel like she was on top of the world.

Being with Stacie, being together—it made her feel powerful in a way she’d never felt in her entire life.

It felt strange not to address what happened last night. Strange, to be contemplating the two of them together at all. Aubrey was seldom invited into the inner circle. More than that, they’ve known each other for a day—there was no together. Even if everything felt like it was sliding into place next to Stacie. Even if all she wanted to do was reach for her hand and kiss her until she couldn’t breathe.

She needed a distraction before imagination pushed her into doing exactly that.

There was no together, she reminded herself one more time.

“I’ve been thinking about what to do with my car situation,” Aubrey said. Stacie had a mouthful of toast when she looked up and locked into her eyes. She was unfairly cute, and Aubrey very nearly lost both her resolve and her train of thought. Stacie tipped her head, waiting for her to elaborate. “I know you don’t really need help, but I’m wondering if it’s possible to work off the cost of the engine and the repairs. I don’t mind cooking and cleaning. If you’ll show me what to do in the garage, I can assist you as well. We could maybe discuss a fair wage depending on the types of tasks you’d like me to do.”

Stacie pursed her lips for a moment as she rolled the idea around in her head. “That…could take weeks if not months.”

“I understand,” Aubrey replied. “I don’t know how long you are comfortable with me staying here. Last night was…amazing”—she paused, smiled as heat crept along her skin as she thought back on all the reasons that made it so amazing—“but I don’t want to be presumptuous, and I don’t want you to think that’s an expectation. It’s probably better if we kept the sex separate from this whole thing.” Aubrey licked her dry lips and offered Stacie a small smile. “If you allow me to work off the cost of the repairs, I’d like to keep track of owed rent. Once I have my car, I’ll find way to pay you back.”

“Aubrey, you really don’t have to,” Stacie said, looking decidedly uncomfortable by this discussion.

Aubrey softened. “Stacie, if you let me stay here for free just because you like kissing me, that makes me a kept woman,” she chuckled. “Unless we avoid jumping into bed again—which honestly…doesn’t seem possible—that’s going to be doubly true.”

Stacie’s eyes widened. “Oh my god, I would never think of it that way.”

“I would,” Aubrey said gently. Finally, she reached across the table and covered Stacie’s hand in her own. “Nothing matters more to me than regaining my sense of self right now. I’ve been lost for a really long time, and meeting you—being here—it feels important, but I really, really don’t want to take advantage of your kindness…any more than I already have. I…hope that makes sense.”

“Okay,” Stacie said, swallowing while her mind struggled to process all the words Aubrey said while trying to make sense of everything unsaid. “Let me think about this and budget how it’s going to work. But for the record, I’m happy to have you here and I don’t think you should have to owe me anything extra for rent, especially if you’re going to be working for me.”

“Noted,” Aubrey said with a nod. Then, she smiled. “But you can’t stop me.”

“I’m your boss now,” Stacie said puffing her chest with a playful grin. “I can decide whatever I want.”

“Well, I’m the scandalous woman who slept with her boss,” Aubrey said with a smirk. She dropped her voice as she leaned over her eggs. “I can get away with doing whatever I want. Especially while I’m wearing my boss’s clothes.”

Stacie laughed in spite of the heat flooding her entire body, covering her eyes with her free hand. “God, you’re completely right. You’re going to be the death of me.”

* * *

Later that afternoon, Roger returned to Stacie’s garage to see the new girl in coveralls, sweeping the front of the garage. “Oh, she’s pretty,” Doreen said from the driver’s seat. “Where did she come from?”

“I don’t have a clue,” Roger replied, “but she was wearing one of those Star Trek shirts earlier. It was too big on her.”

Doreen gasped. “You don’t think—”

Roger nodded. “Bobby seems to think so.”

“You told Bobby?” Doreen turned to him in disbelief. “Sugar, I love you but that’s the stupidest thing you’ve ever done, and I was there when you set the kitchen on fire boiling water. That man never keeps his gob shut! Why would you do that to poor Stacie?”

Roger raised his hands in defence. “I was hungry! I wanted a burger,” he pouted. “And it was too good to keep it to myself!”

“Well, at least Bobby’s gonna get a lot more business today once this gets out—you know how people feel about Stacie.”

Roger nodded quickly. Stacie Conrad had been a subject of curiosity since she took over the abandoned auto shop two years ago. She was warm and friendly, yet stayed steadfastly apart. Other than the couple down the road, she didn’t seem to have any other close friends or family, preferring instead to keep her garage open six days a week. She never took up their dinner invitations, never went down to Bobby’s burger dive, never came out for special events. She never seemed to go anywhere at all except when she absolutely had to, and nobody seemed to be able to figure her out. But boy did they want to in spite of how intimidated they were. Any sightings created gossip, and any gossip at all about the beautiful recluse spread like wildfire.

Stacie, meanwhile, didn’t seem to pay attention at all, even when her business slumped for a while when someone spread the lie that she was some sort of man-eating siren. Roger was pretty sure that was Earl’s boy. Handsome boy with a nasty attitude—never liked hearing no.

Then again, Stacie never seemed like someone who needed or cared about the money in the first place.

As Doreen pulled up to the garage, Aubrey greeted them with a small smile. “Hi again, little lady!” Roger hollered as he hopped out of the passenger side and rounded the front to greet her with a big smile. Doreen waved, smiling when the blonde returned the gesture with a small wave of her own.

“Hey, y’all!” Stacie said, wiping her hands on a clean rag as she came out of the garage to stand beside Aubrey. “Sorry I miss you two earlier today.”

“No worries whatsoever,” Roger said, slapping a large palm around Stacie’s shoulder. “I got to hang out with this lovely lady here”—he flashed Aubrey a grin—“and we had a great time.”

“Hi again, Roger,” Aubrey said with a tip of her head.

“You work here now, do ya?” He asked, raising a brow at the broom in her hands.

“Yep, new hire!” Stacie replied with a chuckle. “Figured it’s about time we bring some new blood out here.”

“Now where did the two of you meet, if you don’t mind my asking?” Roger asked with a smile and a twinkle in his eye.

Stacie glanced at Aubrey, who simply tilted her head. “It’s a long story,” she replied with a wave of her hand. “One for another time. I’ll go bring the tractor out and say hi to Doreen.”

Once Stacie walked away, Roger leaned toward Aubrey. “That Miss Conrad sure is mysterious, isn’t she?” he said with one hand on his hip while the other ran over his silver goatee. “Can never quite guess what she’s thinking.”

Aubrey glanced up at Roger curiously. That didn’t seem to fit the image she had of Stacie at all. “Why do you say that?” she asked.

“She strikes me as a little lady who’s got tons of stories. I think she just doesn’t like to talk about herself very much, you know?”

But Aubrey could only recall the way she looked as she sat beside her on the couch yesterday, when she invited her inside the pages of her story for her to see what she laid bare. She was stunning. Bold. Vulnerable. Perfect. That moment made it far too easy for Aubrey to entrust her with her own heart.

“Maybe it’s a bit different with you,” Roger continued, pulling her out of her thoughts. “I know the folks around here would love to see her in town and get to know her more. The more she keeps to herself the more the rumour mill grows.”

“I see.”

“You know her friends? The pretty redhead and her wife—the quiet one; doesn’t smile much, though she’s pretty all the same,” Roger carried on as he shoved his hands into his pockets and watched Stacie drive the tractor out of the garage. “We see those two around. Not often, but they come out to some of the events at town hall, and I’ve seen them in Bobby’s Burgers a few times. Never Stacie though. She’s so friendly when you talk to her, but—oh, I can’t figure out why she keeps to herself like that. It just strikes me as so incredibly lonely.”

Aubrey shifted a little, unsure how to proceed with this conversation. Surely, Stacie had her reasons, and curious as she was, it was neither of their business. “I don’t mean any disrespect, Roger, but maybe there is nothing to figure out. Stacie is one of the kindest people I’ve ever met, and that wouldn’t change whether she went out for a burger every week or not,” Aubrey said finally.

Roger flushed red with embarrassment. “Oh, gee, I didn’t mean anything by it,” he said, rubbing his bald head with a sheepish smile, “sorry if that’s how that came off. Really should practice putting my foot in my mouth, shouldn’t I?” He shook his head. “You’re absolutely right—Stacie is one of the loveliest young women I’ve ever met. I guess that’s why it’s such a shame to me that she seems to be locking herself away from the world.”

Aubrey nodded. “Sometimes happiness looks different, I guess.”

“Yes, I suppose you’re right,” Roger replied with a laugh. “Funny, Stacie said the exact same thing to me yesterday.” He then turned to Aubrey with a grin. “Well, if you’re interested in something different, there is a salsa class every Saturday at town hall. If you want to meet some folks while you get yourself settled out here, that’s a good place to start. My wife, Doreen, and I will be there.”

“Maybe,” Aubrey said, mustering up a small smile.

“I’ll take it,” Roger chuckled. He nodded his head toward Stacie, who was standing now by the pickup, chatting with Doreen. “I’m happy you’re taking care of her,” Roger added with sudden seriousness. “Despite how she comes off, I know she gets lonely sometimes. I recognize the look.”

Aubrey followed his gaze toward Stacie and her brilliant smile. It was so different than the tentative ones she felt against her skin when she clung to her in the dark. “Yes…I think I know the one.”

* * *

Later, Aubrey was standing at a workbench, sorting through old tools in a dusty box, when Stacie sidled up beside her. “Hi,” Stacie said softly, standing so close she could feel the warmth of her arm through her coveralls.

Aubrey looked up and caught her smile. “Hi,” she said, tucking her hair behind her ear. The air felt a little different around them whenever Stacie stood so close. She’d been more than aware of the little glances they’d been tossing each other all afternoon, catching a smile here and there, feeling the butterflies more often than not. Stacie made her feel like she was in high school again—not the frigid student council president nobody really liked but everybody tolerated. No, she felt like the most popular girl in school—beautiful and desired. It was more than a little mutual crush. She felt that reckless optimism again, the feeling that the world’s eyes were on her and her infinite potential. She made her feel like someone who hadn’t hit the bottom yet.

“I was just giving Miss Fuentes’s car an oil change,” Stacie said slowly. Aubrey knew this—she’d explained just fifteen minutes ago that Miss Fuentes ran a bakery in town, and had dropped off a bag of cookies yesterday that she’d entirely forgotten about.

Aubrey quirked a brow. “Uh huh.”

“Then I looked over at you…and I thought…I kind of…just want to…stand a little closer. That’s all,” Stacie finished, smiling through the embarrassment.

Aubrey caught her eyes flicker to her lips and a small smirk tugged at the corner of her lips. “I’m okay with that.”

Stacie drummed her fingers on the surface of the work bench. “Good,” she said, inching her hand toward Aubrey’s. Aubrey watched the side of her long fingers brush against the back of her hand. Slowly, she placed the screwdriver she’d been holding down beside the toolbox. Stacie’s pinky found hers as soon as her hand was free, hooking them together while they stood shoulder to shoulder.

Aubrey glanced up at Stacie through her lashes, her lips parted in anticipation. Stacie smiled, and without wasting another second, bent down and captured them. Aubrey had been waiting and wondering all day, her body exhaling with relief against Stacie as she touched the back of Stacie’s neck. Her eyes closed, and it felt like the easiest thing in the world to simply allow herself to fall into her senses.

She’d never been so spontaneous in her life, never done anything beyond acting exactly how she was supposed to. But this electricity! This restless, insatiable attraction that lodged into every cell and wouldn’t—couldn’t—go away until she could wrap herself around Stacie again.

She soon felt the edge of the work surface digging into her lower back, and the wheels of the bench scrape ever so slightly against the concrete floor in spite of its locks. She gasped when she felt the graze of Stacie’s teeth against her bottom lip and the strength of Stacie’s hands on her hips as she tugged her closer. “We’re supposed to be working,” she whispered into the millimetre between them.

“We should probably stop,” Stacie agreed breathily. Her hands, however, disagreed as they roamed up the side of Aubrey’s body to reach her breasts.

Fire burned through Aubrey to pool between her legs. This chemistry again—this utterly combustible way she felt beneath Stacie’s touch. She sighed her name and wrapped her arms around Stacie’s neck, arching into her for more. “Don’t.”

Without a word, Stacie pulled away, leaving Aubrey dazed as she took her by the hand and led her back to the house. It would be just for a little while—a little break from the mid-afternoon heat, Stacie told herself.

No one had to know.

As soon as they were through the door, Aubrey’s pulled her face into her hands and pinned her with a searing kiss.

Stacie moaned. No one had to know the way how deeply her loneliness would sigh in relief when Aubrey touched her, or the crackling power pulsing through her veins, sparking life to them in a way she hadn’t felt for years. Aubrey made her feel awake. Alive.

No one had to know.

Just in case she was wrong.

In the sobriety of the night, when they once more laid in bed, wrapped up in the darkness of the night, Aubrey would wonder what Stacie saw in her that made it so easy for her to share her story. What made her deserving of the trust she so reluctantly gave to everyone else. She felt the faith Stacie placed in her in the way her arms wrapped warmly around her, and it was such a delicate thing. She wondered how long it would take before it would all go wrong. Aubrey curled a little closer with a sigh—try as she might, it was only a matter of time before Stacie saw the worst parts of her, the part where she believed herself to be no more than just a fuck-up with a penchant for ruining everything she held dear. She shivered when she remembered all the ways that part used to lash out at anybody who stood in her way. It was ugly, but her heart wondered all the same whether she’d still have her faith, whether she would still deem her worthy if she saw it all.

Little could she have known that in that exact moment, Stacie was wondering the same thing. With her eyes closed, with Aubrey against her, she listened to the ticking of her wall clock, counting the seconds. For Stacie, it was an inevitability that Aubrey would leave like everyone else had left. In spite of everything they’d given each other, she’d get tired of her and her perpetual battles with her demons. She’d get tired of her life and the empty silences out here. More than that, Aubrey said herself that she would leave once her car was fixed. All she should be doing now was bracing for the inevitable. She remembered all the times her broken heart had tried to heal at the bottom of a bottle and in the laps of strangers. She’d hurt so many people out of her, but her heart wondered all the same whether there could be more. If Aubrey, in her reluctance to leave, might also believe in more.

And her heart, she knew, would never learn no matter how many times it let itself get hurt.

* * *

When Beca met Stacie in the spring of their sophomore year, there was no fanfare. No bells or whistles or anything at all to indicate they would ever be more than just two girls stuck in detention all the time. In fact, Beca found Stacie annoyingly talkative and uncomfortably scantily clad. She never knew where to put her eyes whenever Stacie turned around in the seat in front of her to chat. Beca couldn’t count the number of times she dreaded being in detention at the same time as Stacie, who either never got the hint that all Beca ever wanted to do was nap, or simply never gave a fuck.

Eventually, proximity bred camaraderie, and camaraderie bred affection. Things began to change.

The more they learned about one another, the more they found common ground. They bonded over the all the classes they skipped to land them in detention, and gossiped about all the girls and boys they found cute. They talked about their futures, their big dreams, and their little ones. Beca told her about all the people she wanted to meet someday in the music industry. Stacie told her she wanted a cherry red Mustang and someone to take to a drive-in movie like they did in the fifties.

Stacie was a hopeless romantic even then.

They seldom interacted in school, as their different social circles would draw too much attention. But by junior year, they talked and texted daily.

Despite bearing witness to each other’s meteoric rise to success over the subsequent years and all the challenges they had to wrestle though, nothing was harder than love. Beca was there during every heartbreak from her junior year onwards—big and small. She’d seen all the ways people took advantage of Stacie’s open heart and her eagerness to love and be loved. She’d seen all the ways Stacie had broken down and put herself back together.

Stacie had seen the same. She was there when Beca was figuring out her feelings for a certain disgraced pop star. She’d seen the worst of her when the press had put them through a grinder. She’d picked her back up, put her back together, and pushed her toward Chloe when she didn’t have the strength.

But no matter how bad it was, they’d always been honest. They’d always confided in each other through it all. They’d always gotten through it together.

So, when Beca had accompanied Chloe to a salsa class in town hall on Saturday evening and found herself the very, very last person to know about the secret blonde beauty Stacie was harbouring in her house, she was _livid_.

It was almost midnight when Beca started banging on the front door of Stacie’s home. The crickets were already singing and the night sky was littered with stars. Chloe stood behind her, staring up at the sky, though she could not see a thing through her own tangle of emotions. Beca had snapped at her, angry she’d kept this secret from her, and she knew butting heads with her would only make it worse.

While they waited for someone to answer the door, Chloe placed her hand on Beca’s arm in an attempt to connect with her, and was relieved when she did not pull away.

“Sorry for yelling earlier,” Beca mumbled, unable to quite meet Chloe’s eyes. She was flushed from shame and anger, not only from allowing her emotions to spin so out of control, but to be found so untrustworthy that she was the last to know.

Chloe could see the red tip of her ear, and squeezed her arm, leaning in for a quick kiss on Beca’s cheek. “It’s okay,” Chloe replied with a half smile. “I understand why you’re mad, and ultimately, I know it’s not really about me, so I’m not taking it personally. We can talk about it later when you feel better?”

Beca nodded, deflating a little. “Yeah.”

Soon, the door swung open, and Stacie stood there, bewildered. The shock didn’t last long. One look at the colour on Beca’s face, the deep furrow of her brow, and the strained corners of her pursed lips said it all. “So, you heard,” Stacie sighed. 

“When were you going to tell me?” Beca said, surprisingly more sad than angry in tone.

“Tomorrow, I guess?” Stacie said slowly, rubbing the back of her neck. “Couldn’t exactly cover it up when you two are coming over for brunch. Do you wanna come in and talk?”

“Is she in there?” Beca asked, peering around the door.

Stacie shifted uncomfortably. “She’s in bed,” she said with a sigh.

Both Chloe and Beca’s brows shot up. “In… _your_ bed?” Chloe squeaked. Stacie nodded, her eyes glued to the ground to avoid the vitriol in Beca’s gaze. Finally, Chloe sighed. “I’m going to wait in the car. You two better talk it out.” When Stacie caught her eyes with a silent plea to stay, Chloe smiled sympathetically. “I like Bree,” Chloe said, “I don’t know her well, but I think she’s really smart and super nice and she’s gorgeous too. I think…this could be a good thing, Stace, but”—she bit her lip—“you have to admit it’s a bit fast.”

Stacie nodded silently.

“I’ll let you two catch up. I’ll see you at brunch tomorrow?”

Stacie sighed when Beca shouldered past her and walked inside. “Yeah...”

The silence was fraught while Stacie and Beca sat across from each other with mugs of untouched camomile tea between them. Stacie glanced at Beca, who was glowering at the dining table, her features marred by simmering anger. She swallowed—it seemed there was no amount of calming tea that could assuage Beca tonight.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” Stacie said quietly. “It happened so quickly, and I knew…you wouldn’t be happy about it.”

“Of course, I wouldn’t!” Beca snapped. “I’ve seen all the times you’ve been cheated and lied to and taken advantage of, Stace.” She demurred then, glancing away with a frown. “Doesn’t mean I don’t want to be there for you.”

“I know,” Stacie sighed. “I just…didn’t know how to tell you. I barely know how to put it in words. You know how…when something seems too good to be true, it usually is? I know this, but—god, Beca, I can’t explain what she does to me. It’s so…I—I know the risk, but I can’t help it.”

Beca was silent for a moment, taking a sip of her tea to buy herself a few extra awkward seconds. “Look,” she said eventually, “I don’t _want_ to think the worst all the time. I want you to be happy, and I want to believe there’s someone out there that will make you happy. Do I think this someone might be a random chick you picked up on the side of the road five days ago? I’m skeptical.”

“How did you—”

“Chloe told me, but I’m still waiting to hear about it from you.” Beca offered a small smile. A temporary truce. “Tell me about her.”

“Will you promise not to freak out?” Stacie replied with a wince.

“No,” Beca scoffed, “but I promise I will listen.”

So, Stacie told her everything. From that fateful Monday morning to the unforgettable Monday night. She detailed every moment in the last five days that shifted the narrative, unveiled the passion, and rewired the electricity between them. There weren’t enough words, so she did what she could to uncover all that could not be expressed. Beca listened, patient in spite of the furrow in her brow. Stacie’s mind thought up a million excuses to defend Aubrey before Beca even said a word, but deep down, the fear clung to her by the claws. Fear that once again, she was missing every red flag. She needed Beca’s honesty, even if she didn’t want to hear it.

Beca didn’t disappoint.

“This isn’t judgment,” Beca said slowly, “but you’re telling me that you’re currently housing an unemployed, homeless woman for free. Because you’re attracted to her. And you’re sleeping with her. A lot. Okay, maybe it’s a little bit of judgement.”

“That’s one way to put it,” Stacie mumbled. “But yes. And I like her…like, a scary amount. She’s the first person I think about in the morning and the last person I think about at night.”

“Because you’re with her. In bed. Together. Probably naked,” Beca said, raising a brow. “And you’ve been on your own for two years.”

“Well, I…I can’t imagine kissing anyone else ever again.”

“I’ve heard that before.”

“Look, there’s just this…magnetism I can’t explain,” Stacie insisted, gesturing frantically. “Something I’ve never felt before.”

“If she’s a beautiful woman, like you said she was, that sounds like a pretty natural response,” Beca said matter-of-factly as she rolled her mug in her palms. When Stacie sighed dejectedly at her own tea, Beca softened. “Have you guys talked about it yet? About where you stand?” She asked in lieu of the layers on layers of cynicism coating her tongue. “The sex?”

Stacie swallowed. She’d hoped that Beca wouldn’t ask. “No, not really,” she admitted. “It just…kind of happens.”

“So…you’re friends with benefits?”

“That doesn’t seem right either.”

“So…you’re…her landlord and boss…with benefits. And I’m not talking about dental.”

Stacie groaned, pressing her palm to her eyes in frustration. “That is so much worse. Oh, my god, this whole situation is bad. What the hell am I doing, Beca? What am I supposed to do?”

“Calm down, Stace,” Beca said with a shake of her head. “If I’m not allowed to freak out, then neither are you. Do you notice anything weird about her? Like, do you feel like she’s going to rob you like what’s-her-face did?”

Stacie shook her head vigorously. “That one was bad news—I knew it and felt it, but I was too horny to stop it. I might not be able to keep my hands off Aubrey, but she doesn’t seem the type to steal from me. Actually, she told me she was going to keep track of how much rent she owed during her stay here, so she can pay it back in the future. I thought that was nice, even though I don’t feel too good about it.”

“Maybe she senses that about you,” Beca replied. She shrugged, then crossed her arms on top of the table. “She knows you’re generous, so she’s paying lip service so you let your guard down. That’s always a possibility.”

“I don’t think so.”

Beca pinned her with a hard stare. “Your head doesn’t think so, or your heart? Or worse, your Hunter.”

Stacie cringed. “Please don’t bring up that weird college nickname. He’s not what he used to be, and he’s very sensitive about it.” She laughed uneasily at her attempt to make a joke, but Beca wasn’t smiling.

“Just answer the question.”

“I don’t know. All three? She…she said that this felt important, and that she didn’t want to take advantage of me. She wants to do it right…keep the sex separate. That means something, doesn’t it?”

Beca raised her brows in genuine surprise. “Well, that’s…nice of her. Nicer than a lot of people you’ve been with—I’ll give her credit for that.” She shook her head. “But I’m still not convinced. I mean, where are you even going with this?”

“I know where I _want_ to go,” Stacie said with a crooked smile. “I think…that’s enough for now.”

Beca clapped her hands together and rested her forehead on them, as if in prayer. “Stacie,” she said, exasperated. “you can’t just decide what you want and _hope_ Aubrey’s on the same page as you.” She met Stacie’s frown with a small sympathetic smile. “Yes, these things need a leap of faith. And yeah, okay, maybe you guys already took that leap, but you can’t just _know_ what the other person is thinking just because you feel so close to them. You’ve seen what that did to me and Chloe.”

“That’s…different. You and Chloe are very different people,” Stacie retorted.

Beca rested her chin on her folded hands. “So, what? You’re entitled to Aubrey’s thoughts and feelings because you _think_ you’re similar?”

“Well, no, but…”

“You know exactly what she’s thinking and what she wants out of this relationship,” Beca said, arching a brow in a way that Stacie really wanted to slap off her face.

“I don’t. And that’s not what I said.” Stacie crossed her arms. “We’re just…taking it one day at a time, Bec. It’ll be fine. I mean, you haven’t even met her yet. Let me worry about it.”

Beca stared at her for one, long, awkward moment. Stacie stared back—she’d been on the defence for a while, even if she couldn’t admit it to Beca. Beca could sense it. Stacie knew Beca could sense it.

It wasn’t a surprise, then, when Beca finally shrugged and said, “Suit yourself.”

Stacie groaned when Beca stood and thanked her for the tea before leaving.

Beca had conceded.

And she _always_ felt like she lost whenever Beca conceded.

* * *

Aubrey couldn’t remember the last time she attended any sort of lunch function. Even if she could, it must’ve been some kind of networking event. She never kept very many friends over the years—certainly none close enough to give up a Sunday morning for brunch. She looked back at her life now, cringing at the insignificance of so many things she wasted her time chasing as she stirred a jug of mimosa. She’d given up so many moments that could’ve been something more—and for what?

She glanced over at Stacie beside her, silently cutting up avocados for the eggs Benedict she was making. They’d spent all morning making English muffins, and while they had a bit of fun joking and teasing and covering each other in flour, something seemed to be bothering Stacie.

The last five days had been wonderful. Fitting around each other was easy—they woke up together, worked together, cooked and ate together, and on frequent occasion, slept together. They still hadn’t talked about that part, but there was so much more that they did talk about. It never seemed important in the moment—only when doubt slipped through the cracks, only when she reached for casual affection and stopped herself in her tracks that it seemed to matter at all.

“What’s on your mind?” Aubrey asked.

Stacie stopped cutting and met her eyes. She smiled. “Not much,” she said. “Just looking forward to brunch.” She paused when Aubrey raised a brow. “And…a bit worried about having you meet Beca, I guess?”

“Ah.” Stacie mentioned briefly that Beca had dropped by last night, and by the look on her face, it wasn’t the friendliest of conversations, so Aubrey didn’t press. She couldn’t help but wonder whether Stacie was ashamed that they were sharing a bed, knowing she didn’t have much else to offer. Perhaps she was worried that Beca could see all the ways the two of them didn’t fit together, and this made Aubrey a little queasy. “Are you worried that…Beca and I won’t get along?” She asked slowly.

Stacie shook her head. “More like I’m worried Beca won’t give the two of you a _chance_ to get along. She, um, wasn’t too happy about how fast we’re moving, I guess,” Stacie sighed as she resumed her work on the avocados to avoid Aubrey’s gaze. “I…just don’t want her to make things weird.”

Aubrey didn’t speak for a moment, and the air hung heavy with words unspoken. Finally, she sucked in a breath. “Does it bother you?” she asked quietly.

“What do you mean?”

“Being attracted to me. Does it bother you?”

Aubrey was staring now at the mimosa, her hand on the wooden spoon frozen. Stacie’s stomach dropped. “No,” she said, though she couldn’t quite look at Aubrey either. “It’s just…confusing, I guess. A little scary.”

“I see.”

Stacie dropped her knife onto the cutting board and turned to grab Aubrey by the upper arm when she tried to brush by her with the mimosa. Aubrey stopped, cradling the jug in both hands as Stacie moved to block her path. “Aubrey,” she said, holding her gingerly by the elbows. Aubrey met her eyes. She’d schooled her features as best she could to shield herself from all the things her demons said in response to Stacie’s lukewarm reply—of course it bothers her, they whispered in her ears, you’re just a waste of space. The two of you are nothing. _You_ are nothing. “Aubrey,” Stacie repeated, shaking those thoughts away. “I…I really like you. Like, really, really, really like you. That’s what makes it so confusing and scary. Do you understand?”

Aubrey searched her eyes and found them mirroring the panic she felt.

Stacie had dredged those words up from a safe deep in her heart, and she was waiting for her response, waiting to see if she’d come up short, if she’d be left alone, if Aubrey felt the same way.

Aubrey’s heart rattled in her chest. “I really like you too,” she admitted.

Stacie smiled, visibly relieved. “We’re on the same page then?”

“Yeah,” Aubrey said, blushing when Stacie leaned over the mimosa to plant a kiss on her lips. Aubrey’s breath hitched. It was brief, but perhaps it was the casualness of it that added so much more weight than she expected. She smiled when Stacie pulled away and murmured, “Yeah…I think so.”

Stacie’s own cheeks coloured, and her grin widened. “Awesome.”

* * *

Beca hadn’t taken her eyes off Aubrey since the moment she walked into the door and saw her standing there behind Stacie. Despite all the intentional and unintentional glaring, Aubrey didn’t cower. She didn’t hide behind Stacie or avoid her gaze. Instead, she stared back inscrutably, until Beca squirmed with discomfort that she immediately wrestled down.

She didn’t know what to make of her.

She had accepted Chloe’s enthusiastic hug with open arms, had put a smile on her wife that Beca truly adored. With Stacie, they moved together so seamlessly, as if they’d hosted brunch together every week all their lives.

Perhaps that was the problem—Aubrey fit into the picture _too_ seamlessly. Beca quietly watched her watch Chloe, giving her rapt attention while she regaled her with stories from yesterday’s salsa class as she cut into her eggs Benedict. She relinquished her gaze only to point it at Stacie, who smiled when Aubrey laughed at something Chloe said—Beca recognized that look on her face.

She’d fallen further down than yesterday’s conversation implied. Beca didn’t blame her, but not being able to find a single red flag seemed like a big flag unto itself. Nobody should fit into a new life so easily.

“Beca?”

Beca turned to Chloe in confusion. “What?”

Chloe’s hand, which had been resting on her knee as she spoke, squeezed. Beca dropped her shoulders at her touch—she didn’t realize she’d been so tense. “Aubrey asked you a question, babe,” Chloe said with a smile.

“Oh,” Beca mumbled, “sorry.”

“No worries,” Aubrey said with a small smile of her own. “I was just wondering if you’re alright. You haven’t touched your food at all. I can make you something else if you like.”

Beca looked down at her plate, her fork and knife still clean in her hands. She flushed a little in embarrassment. “Oh, no, the food’s fine. Just…lost in thought, I guess.”

Stacie raised a brow, but didn’t say anything.

“Alright,” Aubrey replied. She glanced at Stacie, who returned her glance with a smile. Beca’s brow furrowed. It was like she knew that Beca was simply sizing her up. Worse, she seemed to know and not care. Did this imply that she didn’t care what Beca thought despite knowing her importance to Stacie? Or did she develop some kind of secret system with Stacie? She could imagine them taking it all in now and laughing about it later. Beca was pulled out of this train of thought, however, when Aubrey told Chloe, “I looked up some of your songs.”

Chloe’s eyes bugged out. “No way. Oh my god, that’s _so_ embarrassing.”

Aubrey chuckled. “You don’t have to be embarrassed. I know I’m not the target audience for that kind of music, but I actually thought you’re really talented. Your voice is amazing, and I see what you mean now about the dancing.”

“Yeah, she was sitting over there with her laptop on Thursday night—you should’ve seen her,” Stacie said, nodding toward the couch. “She was trying to copy some of your moves. Almost dropped her laptop—it was so cute.”

Aubrey flushed crimson. “I was just trying to figure out how you did the hand thing in ‘Butterfly Dreams’.” She demonstrated, crossing her arms in front of her face and gesturing wildly with her hands to emphasize the complexity of the choreography.

Chloe squealed excitedly. “That’s one of my favourites!” She pushed out of her seat then and stood behind her chair to carry out the entirety of that sequence in a series of rapid-fire hand gestures, arm movements, and complex footwork.

It had been a long time since Beca had seen such exhilaration on her face. Beca found herself captivated by the grace, beauty, and power in every movement, but it was the joy—the laughter, as she pulled Aubrey to her feet and taught her to move, step-by-step—that really seized her heart.

She locked eyes with Chloe, who grinned and the whole world fell away. She could forget about everything else and exist in this moment forever.

When she glanced at Stacie, however, and saw that same lovestruck expression reflected in her best friend, her stomach sank a little.

Stacie was gone—full steam ahead.

Losing Aubrey was going to crush her.

* * *

That night, long after Chloe and Beca had gone home, the stars filled the clear skies. Having grown up between the suburbs and the big city, Aubrey marvelled at the sheer multitude of lights dotting the skies. So, Stacie laid a blanket out by the Mustang, and they sat, side-by-side, their backs against the cherry red. As they gazed up to take in the beauty of the night, accompanied by a tumbler of hot chocolate, Aubrey laid her head against Stacie’s shoulder. Stacie stiffened at first, unsure where the seemingly innocuous gesture landed in their unspoken agreement. She wanted to reach for her hand, which laid in her lap, wrapped around a silver campfire mug, but though her heart ached for it, she kept her eyes on the stars above, and reminded herself this was more than enough.

“What did you do at NASA?” Aubrey asked. “It must be amazing to be so close to this all the time.”

“I guess so. You look at it differently when you’re in it, though I’d argued the mathematics involved in understanding space is just as beautiful. But to answer your question—I designed hardware for engines,” Stacie replied.

“For rockets?”

Stacie chuckled. “Kind of. I worked on one of the rovers, then went on to a secret project for human landing. I’m not supposed to talk about it.”

Aubrey turned up to meet her eyes. God, she was so close, only inches away from a kiss. Aubrey pulled back with an adorable half-smile. “Did you always want to go to space?” she said quietly.

Stacie glanced beside her, missing her warmth immediately. “I don’t want to go to space,” she said. “What gave you that idea?”

“Really? Doesn’t every kid dream of going to space?” Aubrey pointed up at the sky. “Feel what it’s like to be among the stars?”

“The stars are so far away,” Stacie chuckled, sending warm vibrations through Aubrey’s arm. “I mean, you’re just going to be among a whole bunch of darkness. That freaks me out a bit.”

Aubrey grinned—Stacie’s laugh was infection. “You’re a weirdo.”

“Did you _just_ notice?” Stacie asked. “I mean, I still love all the geeky space stuff. I miss it too, sometimes. But you don’t have to go out there to know that’s where the future’s headed, and to be a part of that…to have a piece of something you create exist on another planet—the feeling is indescribable.”

“Would you ever consider going back?”

Stacie shook her head. “I don’t think so. It’s too painful for me. I like my life out here.”

“How come?” Stacie brought her gaze down to her hands, and she could feel the curiosity burning into the side of her face. “You don’t…have to talk about it. If you don’t want to,” Aubrey said quickly.

“I want to,” Stacie said, surprising herself with the impulsive statement. It was a sentence she never thought she’d ever say in regards to this part of her history. Stacie leaned forward on the blanket, picking at the fabric as she tried to find the threads in her thoughts that could coherently string her past together without breaking her apart. Aubrey waited patiently, wanting to touch her—to connect—but not knowing how. “My dad got really sick just as I was assigned to the new project. My parents are divorced, and my mom remarried and started a new family when I was eight or nine, so for most of my life, it was just me and my dad. But this—this was the opportunity of a lifetime, and I couldn’t say no. They gave me a team—they trusted me to be a part of something big—something possibly generation-defining. And I…couldn’t be there for him. I made my choice, and—and…I didn’t even get to say goodbye.” She mustered a small, broken smile as she turned back at Aubrey, who was watching her, eyes glassy with emotion. “Back then, I was so afraid to be alone. I hated the feeling of it eating me up. But when my dad died, I realized…that was probably the worst feeling in the world. Everything else was just…part of the circus, I guess.”

“So you came here?” Aubrey asked.

“Yeah. I realized…how easy it was for life to pass you by when you’re living battle to battle, chasing one goal after another.” Stacie scoffed, looking up at the stars now as a surge of emotion grabbed onto her heart and squeezed it right. “I realized all this time, I was so busy proving myself and fighting to be seen and heard—all this time, the one person who gave me those things unconditionally…I…I didn’t even get to thank him.”

“I’m sure he knows,” Aubrey said, gently pressing a palm on her shoulder.

Stacie turned and seized her eyes then. “How could anyone know for sure if you never articulate it?” She asked quietly.

Aubrey’s heart skipped—the dual purpose of the question was not lost on her. “I think,” she said slowly, “people show love—love and gratitude—in different ways, and sometimes actions speak louder than words.” She smiled softly, her hand still warm on Stacie’s shoulder. “And I’m sure your dad knows how much you wanted to be there. He’s been watching over you all this time.”

“God, I hope not the entire time,” Stacie chuckled in an attempt to lighten the mood. “He was such a germaphobe, he would _not_ have approved of all the surfaces we made out on.”

Aubrey gave her a light slap on the shoulder. “Now you just made it weird.” She then pushed up to her knees and wrapped her arms around Stacie’s neck, pressing her cheek against her back as she held her tightly. “But it looks like you can use a hug anyway.”

Stacie clutched her forearm and sighed into her. For a while, they stayed just like this, quietly taking in every ounce of the warmth as starlight shined on them.

“What am I going to do once you leave?” She whispered into the silence.

Aubrey’s breath hitched, her heart skipping at Stacie’s raw honesty. “I find myself wondering the same thing,” she confessed.

“Would it be crazy if I just asked you to stay with me indefinitely?” Stacie asked.

“Yes,” Aubrey laughed. “And as happy as it would make me, I don’t know if that’s such a good idea when we’ve only known each other for a week.”

“But I feel like I’ve known you longer. Lifetimes, even.”

“Yes…but the truth of it is you haven’t,” Aubrey murmured. She placed a gentle kiss at the nape of Stacie’s neck before sliding her arms down to wrap around Stacie’s middle. “Everything I’ve been through—everything you’ve been through is coloured by hindsight. We can’t pretend that there isn’t a possibility that what we really, really, really like about each is partially in our imaginations. What we projected on each other. Something we’re…hoping…or expecting from one another...that might not be there.”

“I don’t know if I like that.”

“I don’t either, but…I’ve been thinking…”

Stacie’s stomach tightened. She should've known this was coming.

“We should probably slow down a bit.” 

Stacie touched Aubrey’s hand to anchor herself against the swirling doubts and the rising panic. She closed her eyes and exhaled. “I know you’re right. I know all of this is kinda crazy, and it’s probably the healthier thing to do to step back and spend more time with each other platonically, but…I don’t know if I can, Aubrey. I like you so much, I just…I don’t know…”

“Would you like me even if we don’t kiss?”

Stacie whipped around, breaking free of Aubrey’s hold. She pushed herself up to sit back on her heels as she caught her eyes intensely. “How can you even ask me that?” She asked with a frown.

Aubrey ducked her eyes as she tucked her hair behind her ear. Stacie reached for her hand and held it between her own. With a small smile, however, Aubrey shook her head and pulled away. “I’m not asking because I doubt that you like me,” she said, slumping a little as she stared down at her empty hands between her thighs. “I’m asking because I want you to like me for me. I think…we found each other in a strange time. A week ago, I couldn’t even fathom anything close to this, and as wonderful as you are—as this is—I don’t want to mislead you.”

Stacie frowned. “Mislead me?”

“Let me finish,” Aubrey said. With a deep breath and a burst of courage, she raised her eyes and lifted her hand to cup Stacie’s face. “You can correct me if I’m wrong, but it feels like we are going somewhere. Somewhere important. But…we can’t figure out where we are going until we really _know_ what we’re signing up for. What we have is amazing, but…what if it isn’t sustainable? What if I turn out not to be the person you want me to be? I can be messy and I can lash out—I have parts of me that I hate and parts of me that desperately needs fixing. If we…decide to go further, we can’t distract ourselves from the ugliest parts of each other, Stacie. It’s a part of who we are, and it’s a part we can’t just kiss away, and it’s…I want you to see me. That’s all it is.” Aubrey bites her lip. “What do you think?”

Stacie studied her steadily, her hand subconsciously wrapped around Aubrey’s against her jaw. She suddenly felt so close, yet so far away. Somehow, her heart felt simultaneously full from the hope of a future together, and empty from what was asked of her.

“I don’t like it, but I can’t find reason to disagree with it,” Stacie sighed. “Except how _much_ rather be kissing you right now than having this conversation, so I guess it’s the right call.”

Aubrey smiled. “Me too,” she confessed. “But we shouldn’t.”

“For how long?” Stacie pouted.

Aubrey dropped her hand—Stacie missed it immediately, but didn’t react beyond the same lost puppy expression on her face. “Until my car is fixed, at least. Or until I figure out what to do next. Whichever makes more sense?”

“So…if I make every call and get a new engine immediately freighted in and stay up all night fixing it for you?” Aubrey furrowed her brows. “I’m just kidding,” Stacie said quickly, raising both hands in surrender. “It’s going to be hard keeping my hands to myself, but…you’re right. I…I don’t want to burn out either. I want to go somewhere important with you, Aubrey, and I want you to know me as much as I want to know you. I guess…right now, we’re…platonic best friends?”

Aubrey laughed, taking Stacie’s offered hand with a firm shake. “Yeah. Let’s start there. But…you’re gonna have to work on the way you stare at me if we’re gonna be platonic best friends.”

Stacie huffed a dramatic sigh. “I’m only human.”

* * *

It had only been two weeks since that night under the stars, but Stacie was nearly at her wits end. She missed waking up with Aubrey in her arms, and she wondered, when their eyes would meet from across the room, whether she missed her too. The more they kept each other apart, the more she craved to be closer. It was easy to miss the volcanic passion, but soon she began to miss the little touches they used to share and the ones they never had. A kiss good morning, a touch on the small of her back—intimate affection that just felt right. Even hugs were off the table after it quickly escalated in the kitchen one night, only to be stopped by Aubrey’s iron will.

She hated going downstairs every morning and see Aubrey’s blanket neatly folded up at the end of the couch, her pillow stacked on top. Something about it just didn’t feel right. She’d then see Aubrey in the kitchen making breakfast, still sleepy in her borrowed clothes and her mussed up hair, looking so soft and kissable that it was just unfair. They’d work side by side, conversation and silence weaving so comfortably that she was starting to forget what it was like to live alone. Aubrey was becoming such a fixture in her life that it was easy to forget she wasn’t going to stay forever. It was only when she reached out, craving that touch only to pull back, that her stomach sank.

She was on the verge of calling off the whole thing when the universe came knocking, quite literally, with a different plan.

They were cooking dinner on an early Tuesday evening when someone began pounding on garage door. They bolted out across the backyard, thinking it was some kind of emergency, and were surprised to see a red-faced young woman in an expensive coat. She beamed when she took notice of them, throwing herself onto Aubrey before they’d said a word.

“Oh my god, I’m _so_ happy to see you, Aubrey! I’ve been tracking you for days!”

Stacie watched, confused but ready to intervene as she watched the girl squeeze Aubrey so tight it looked like she was turning blue. Fortunately, Aubrey beat her to it with a smack across the girl’s back and a garbled, “Em, you’re choking me.”

“Omigod, sorry, sorry, sorry,” she said springing away just far enough to grab Aubrey by both hands. “I got really excited, like oh my god, I totally thought you must’ve been kidnapped or something, or like dead somewhere, and I was starting to freak out and—”

“Emily!” Aubrey cried, slipping out of her hands to shake her by both shoulders. “Slow. Down. Take a deep breath.”

Emily’s eyes widened as she did as she was told, filling her cheeks with air and expelling it. She was so much like a cartoon character that Stacie couldn’t help but laugh.

“How on earth did you find me?”

“It’s a bit of a long story, and you’re probably gonna think I was being _real_ creepy, but the very short version is that I tracked your phone,” Emily said with a nervous laugh.

“ _Why_?”

Emily flinched a little at the volume of Aubrey’s shock so close to her face. “I…was looking for you, but Mr. and Mrs. Posen said you’d just left one day and didn’t come back. They didn’t seem too worried, but they probably have no idea how many horrible murder stories start that way. Besides”—she flashed a sheepish grin—“you wouldn’t leave without telling me. So…I tracked your phone.”

“Oh boy.”

Emily Junk was a long-time family friend and a young wiz-kid who’d gone off to Princeton at sixteen and accomplished a great many things. On top of a part-time modelling career, she was a philanthropist, an entrepreneur, a favourite on Forbes’ 30 under 30, and the owner of various successful social media accounts and sold-out lines of merchandise featuring her perfect, adorable dog.

Needless to say, Aubrey tried her best not to think about Emily on most days, and she certainly _would_ have left town without telling her. She would never say this to her face, however, knowing how hurt Emily would be.

Despite the mostly lukewarm love she extended to the younger girl, Emily had always idolized Aubrey. In her own starry-eyed way, she made no secret of her admiration. Almost as soon as she could walk, she was already following Aubrey around. Now that they’ve grown up and have grown into such different people, the way she continued to follow Aubrey around and hold her up on that pedestal was almost insulting.

Aubrey hadn’t seen her in several months—they’d had brunch together and Aubrey remembered the pressure of concealing her failures acutely while listening to all the ways Emily was succeeding. That felt like lifetimes ago now, and she no longer had the energy to uphold whatever façade she used to design for Emily. Still, she could admit that she’d be touched by Emily’s concern and unwavering devotion if this entire situation wasn’t so sudden and confusing.

“Em, you could’ve just emailed me,” Aubrey sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“But, Aubrey, I thought you were dead! Or kidnapped! What was I supposed to do?”

Aubrey raised an eyebrow. “And what would you do if I were kidnapped? Or dead, for that matter.”

“Er, I didn’t think that far,” Emily admitted. “Figure it out when I get there, I guess?”

“God, Emily, that’s incredibly reckless,” Aubrey chided in response. “You could’ve seriously gotten hurt.”

“Well, luckily it seems like I’m okay. And you’re okay.” Emily’s grin dropped when she finally looked past Aubrey. “Unless this woman is keeping you hostage?” She squinted at Stacie, who was doing her utmost not to laugh when she said, “Um, excuse me—you’re not keeping my friend hostage, are you?”

With a roll of her eyes, Aubrey stepped back to stand beside Stacie and gently placed her palm on her upper arm. Stacie leaned a little closer as she, unbeknownst to Aubrey, tried not to sulk too much that this strange girl got a hug, had her hand held, and had her shoulder touched in the span of a minute while she had to settle for a light touch in the arm. “This is Stacie,” Aubrey said. “She’s letting me live here while I sort through some things. Stacie, this is Emily Junk. We grew up together.”

“Hi, Stacie!” Emily said, stepping up excitedly for a hug. “Wow, you smell nice.”

“Thanks,” Stacie chuckled, “I probably smell like food. We were just about to have dinner.”

“Actually yeah, you kinda smell delicious.” Emily paused, caught herself with an embarrassed blush. “I-I mean, it’s like…kinda tomato-y? So, like—something delicious. You know what I mean? I swear I’m not a total creep. I just—”

Aubrey cut in then, separating them with feigned nonchalance. “Okay, let’s stop before you make this any weirder than it already is. Speaking of total creep, you might as well come in and join us—if Stacie’s okay with it—so you can tell me why you’re here.”

“Yeah, we’ve got plenty of lasagna,” Stacie says with a smile.

Emily clapped her hands together. “Omigod, yes, I’m _starving_. You guys are the best!”

* * *

Watching Aubrey with a friend wasn’t what Stacie expected. Perhaps it was because Emily is so much younger than Aubrey that she took on this almost motherly role, one that Stacie _certainly_ did not mind seeing. She smiled as she watched them banter over dinner about people they know, and with rapt fascination, she took in Aubrey’s tone and voice, and all the little mannerisms that were different with Emily. There was a harsher quality to her that created the illusion of sternness. It was the exact opposite from the softness she exuded when she was alone with Stacie, and she couldn’t help but feel entirely special.

Perhaps, then, it was the false security of this thought that made it so easy to forget what Emily’s sudden appearance might mean.

“Em, how many times do I have to tell you that you shouldn’t talk with your mouth full? You’re making a mess,” Aubrey said, handing her a napkin.

“Sorry,” Emily replied, wiping her lips with the napkin, “It’s just so easy to lose track when you’re talking about GPS technology.”

“And you still didn’t answer my question,” Aubrey said, pausing only to take a bite of her lasagna. “ _Why_ —not how—are you here? _”_

“Oh! Yes! I’m _so_ glad you asked,” Emily said with a grin. “Well, at first I thought you got kidnapped—”

“Emily, you already mentioned this,” Aubrey sighed. “I’m asking why you were looking for me in the first place.”

“Oh!” Emily brightened in spite of the way her cheeks coloured with embarrassment. “I wanted to offer you a job. And to take you home, of course.”

Aubrey froze, her lasagna sliding off her fork in shock. She turned to meet Stacie’s eyes to see the dread reflected back.

Emily went on, oblivious to the tension rising across the table. “Some friends and I are starting a social venture capital company—like, mostly grass roots companies, health and wellness-focused, and socially responsible companies, you know? Basically, people trying to make the world a better place! We’ve got the funds and the plans, and even a couple of potential clients to get us off the ground. All we need now is a really, really clever portfolio manager. I know you had a rough time at your last company, but I’ve seen your work, Aubrey—you’re _amazing_ , and I really, really can’t think of anyone better.”

Stacie reached beneath the table and found Aubrey’s hand.

“I’ve got the contract ready to go. What do you say?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, all! Back to back posts holy crap! I got stuck on them both, and managed to unstuck myself at the same time. If you haven't already, please do check out my sequel to Coppelia :) More wholesome feelings for everyone~ 
> 
> You may notice that I've changed the rating for this story. With its current trajectory, any smuttiness will probably be pretty toned down. And I know I left you guys on a bit of a cliffhanger, but it will probably be some time before the last chapter as I'm not as ahead as I wish I was (AKA nothing is written yet for part 3). 
> 
> As always, all love is appreciated, but I love knowing what you guys think in the comments. 
> 
> Stay safe, y'all!


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